Another Cinderella Story
by TheSiner
Summary: HPDM/slash/AU/no magic. They fall in love from the first sight, the Prince charming and the poor orphan, but complications follow - friends, villains, families, secrets. Will there be happily ever after? Very loosely based on story about Cinderella.
1. Chapter 1

b **Author**: /b TheSiner

b **Title** : /b Poterella

b **Genre**: /b Romance, Drama and some attempted humor :)

b **Pairing**: /b Harry/Draco (main)

b **Summary**: /b HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story. Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

b **Rating**: /b ,

b **Disclaimer**: /b These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

b **Warnings**: /b slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing.

A/N: I have already posted this story on another site, one of my readers suggested that I should put it somewhere else, so I thought, why not?

This story is not going to be a silly parody, but there will be some fluff.

It was hard for me to write a story where they fall in love, because I don't believe in love from the first sight, but this is kind of fairy tale, so I stepped over myself

Harry is out of character, that's my version how he would turn if he remained living with Dursleys.

Chapter One 

"Boy! Get down at once! Hurry up! Where is my breakfast?"

"Potter! Where are my shoes! Why are you standing there, looking like a moron! Find them!"

"When did you sweep the floor for the last time?"

"Stop staring at me like a moron! Go! Are you deaf?"

"Don't you have anything to do, boy! Go, be useful for once!"

That was Harry Potter's life since he was just a year old toddler, after his parents had died in a car accident and the boy had been left in the care of his relatives – Vernon and Petunia Dursley. They took him in because Harry's mother Lily was Petunia's younger sister. However that didn't mean she accepted her nephew with open arms.

On the contrary – Dursleys saw the dark-haired boy only as a burden. He was an annoying duty.

The truth was that Petunia had always envied her younger sister, because Lily had been, prettier, smarter and better with people, besides she had married James Potter who was like a prince charming who had stepped out of a fairy tale. Especially in comparison with Petunia's own husband.

James was handsome, popular, witty, rich and caring. What else could a woman wish for?

Petunia had also been invited to the ball where b both /b Evans' girls had been introduced to James and his friends. Potter had fallen in love with Lily at the first sight, but hadn't even looked twice at Petunia.

A couple of months later Petunia had accepted Vernon Dursley's proposal, because she hadn't believed that she would have any other options. Which was probably true. And Lily had gotten married to James.

Vernon Dursley, who naturally was feeling confident and quite full of himself and thought that he was a godsend gift to every woman, was not aware what was going on in his wife's mind, actually he couldn't imagine that her thoughts could differ from his.

However Vernon had his own reasons to dislike Harry Potter He saw his wife's nephew as someone who was taking up too much room in his house and stealing food out of his own son's mouth. Besides, he just hadn't liked Potters. They had been weird people. He didn't like those freaky rich people; they were acting strange, wearing strange clothes, besides he had never trusted women with red hair. Now he had to feed their weirdo son. How could Vernon not be angry? He had his own boy to look after. But they had to keep up appearances, if someone found out that Petunia's sister's son was living with strangers or in an orphanage, they would look bad in the eyes of community. It could be bad for business. So Dursleys had to accept this burden.

Dudley Dursley also didn't like his cousin. However he would miss Potter if he had left suddenly. Who would do the chores and his homework, who would he pick on when there wasn't anything else to do? The boy was annoying as hell, but he could be really useful in many ways.

Harry had accepted his place. His place in Dursleys' household and his place in life. He had to cook, clean, work in garden and if he did what he was told, Harry was almost left alone and even fed properly. Boy's life had actually gotten better since he was eleven years old, he got Dudley's second bedroom and didn't had to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs anymore. Besides when Dudley turned sixteen, he stopped beating Harry up – at least not as often as before. A punch or a painful grip once or twice – it was not so bad. Harry was not the largest of guys, actually he was on the thin side, so it was probably his own fault that he bruised and got hurt easily.

After Dudley had gone to college the school was also more pleasant for Harry. Duddley had always turned it into a living hell for his cousin. When he had been younger, Dudley had been the bulkiest and scariest boy in the school and everyone had feared him, so they had been afraid to befriend Harry. It had gotten even worse when Dudley had started doing more sports and loosing his weight, because then he had become popular and if Dudley picked on Harry, then doing it was accepted as a norm, something everyone should do to fit in.

Now Dudley, who was a couple of years older than Harry, had left for the college. Without his leadership Harry was not teased that much anymore. Apparently his schoolmates had decided that the small boy, who was always hiding under a baseball cap, hoodie and round glasses, was not worthy of attention at all. Besides Harry was so used to verbal abuse – it almost didn't bother him anymore. Picking on someone was not fun when one couldn't get any kind of reaction, so most of the bullies just didn't find Harry Potter interesting. That was a relief.

Harry was so used to being alone that it rarely bothered him at all. He had his small pleasures; things that made him feel good. It was half of an hour of quiet when he knew that he won't get yelled at, when he was preparing breakfast in the morning, before the Dursleys woke up. He was pleased when he got a good grade. He was happy when he managed to spare a moment to read a good book. And then there was drawing… art was really his passion.

Of course Harry was feeling lonely once in a while. He longed to have a loving family. He wished he had known his parents. When he was younger he had even wished Dursleys loved him.

But then he had given up on that. They didn't and they wouldn't. Which was a fact. Harry tried not to get upset because of things he couldn't change.

Dudley Dursley was usually staying in campus, however this week he had returned home to coax some more money out of his daddy-dearest. Sadly, money was not his biggest problem at the moment.

"I can't believe that bitch, Dud," Piers drawled and emptied his can of soda.

"Me too. What she's trying to prove," Dudley agreed angrily.

"What are you going to do now? The party's tomorrow. Are you going to show up alone?"

"Alone? Yeah, she would like to see me without a date! No, no way I am going alone. I can't. What would everyone say? No. I must show that bitch, that she is not only fish in the sea, besides I can get every girl I want, right?" Dudley grinned cockily.

"Oh, that is great! You will make Vicky jealous and she will be back to you in no time!" Piers shouted excitedly.

"If I take her back," Dudley grinned cockily, happy about his great idea.

"If you take her back," Piers liked his friend's plan. "Who are you going to ask?"

"I don't know… maybe Laura?"

"No. She's going with John,"

Dudley called names of several girls – they all already had dates or they were not good enough for him. Dudley needed a girl who could impress everyone, something special.

"Let's call Millicent," Piers finally suggested. "Maybe she will have an idea."

Millicent Bulstrode was Piers' girlfriend and his own date for the Halloween ball which was one of the greatest events of the year. At least if one attended University of Hogwarts. She personally didn't, but she was with Piers, besides the guy who hosted the event was an old acquaintance of her.

"Ok, I can see what your problem is," Millicent was pleased that boy's needed her help. She was going to become Piers' wife, so she used every chance to be useful. Mrs. Piers Polkiss… Piers hadn't noticed how dependant on his girlfriend he had become – soon he wouldn't be able to live without her and her help. Which was what she had intended.

"The problem is that all of my friends already have dates… well I know some girls who haven't, but they are not very popular, if you know what I mean…" she meant 'ugly' or 'fat' or 'nerds'. Dudley shook his head. Showing up at the party with some social outcast was not an option. That would be worse than going alone.

That moment someone knocked on the door.

"Mrs. Dursley would like to know if you would like some refreshments," Harry offered shyly not daring to look anyone in the eyes.

"No, not now!" Dudley shouted at his stupid cousin. "Get lost! We are busy here."

Harry didn't have to be told twice. He didn't feel very comfortable in company of too many people.

"Guys!" Millicent's eyes brightened. "I have an idea! Do you remember those funny pictures you were showing me? You made your cousin wear a dress… "

"Yeah," Dudley chuckled remembering his prank. "But what does it has to do with everything."

"Well, he is going to be your date. We will dress him up as a girl and…"

"No!" Dudley was shocked. "I am not going to go with a guy! Besides he is ugly! And my cousin!" The young man protested, repulsed. One look at Piers showed that he totally agreed.

Millicent rolled her eyes: "I am happy for you. Of course you think he is ugly, because you are not into boys. But, I know better. Your cousin is not ugly. Believe me – he will be perfect. I was amazed how good he looked in that dress. He is small, doesn't have too much muscle, he will not look like a guy in a dress; he will look like a perfect lady. Just some make up, nice hairdo."

"But what if someone finds out? I, taking a guy to a Halloween party! As my date? You are mad, woman."

"If someone finds out you will play it as a joke – everyone will find it hilarious, but believe me no one will. Honestly, your cousin would be pretty if he was a girl. Besides you have nothing to loose. Every decent girl has a date already. And ones who don't, well, they are less than decent."

It took about half of an hour for Millicent to convince both men, but finally they saw it her way. No one asked Harry if he agreed of course. They just called him in the room for inspection. When Dudley made Harry take off his hoodie, baseball-cap and glasses, Millicent squealed from excitement.

"Wow! I had no idea that you were so cute! Those eyes! And cheekbones! I am so jealous." Harry turned so red, that he would outshine a beat; no one had ever called him cute. "And your hair is long enough, we won't even need a wig…of course we will have to get contact lenses, do your hair, nails…"

It was decided that Harry will come to Millicent's tomorrow at ten and both 'ladies' will get ready for the party.

"Trust me!" The girl shouted at Dudley and Piers who still didn't look too convinced.

Dudley still kept right to refuse if she was going to propose him to go to party with his cousin dressed up as a scare crow. However Millicent promised that everything would go smoothly.

Harry new that he had to follow Dudley's or rather Piers girlfriend's plan. That couldn't be helped. If he refused, Dudley would find a way to punish him. However doing it made him more than just nervous. Terrified – that would be more precise. Where they crazy? That was not going to work. He had never been to a party and he didn't feel comfortable around too many people. And that girl thing? He was not cute and pretty. He was just very small and nerdish. Being fit to dress up as a girl was very humiliating.

The boy sighed. He had no choice however.

Harry got out of the bus and looked at the note where Millicent's address was written down and headed hopefully in the right direction.

When Harry knocked on the door it immediately sprung open and he was pulled in by an exuberant girl. This had to been how girls got before parties. Harry couldn't know, he had never been to a party and he had never taken a girl out.

"You are here already! That's good! We had a lot to do! First Jacuzzi! You know, need to relax before everything else," and Harry was pulled by his hand through the house to a spacious washroom with a large hot tub in the middle of it.

"Take off your clothes and let's get in!" Millicent urged.

The poor boy gaped. He had never, ever taken his clothes off before someone else and she was a girl!

"Don't be so shy! At first I will turn around while you got in and then you will close your eyes until I get in."

Harry sighed and did as she asked. He was used to being obedient. It was actually not that bad, because the tub was large enough for them both and bubbles hid most of his body. Not all of Millicent though. Harry's cheeks turned redder and he tried look up at the ceiling, because his companion's breasts were quite visible.

After some time the dark-hired boy decided that liked the girl. No one had ever talked that much with him. Even if Millicent was not doing it for him; she obviously liked talking.

"After we take a relaxing bath, my cosmetologist will be here… you know I am not the prettiest rose in the garden… but my daddy is neither poor, nor cheapskate. You can't even imagine what I would look like if I just went by natural looks. Oh, no! I would be nothing without my hire die… Did you know that I had a nose job? Just don't tell Piers! It will be our secret."

Harry was just smiling. Even if she was the evil genius behind all the cross dressing thing, Millicent was not a bad person. He had not met a lot of people who were this nice to him.

"You know, you are a good listener," the girl noted.

"And I thought I was just a bad talker…"

Millicent giggled. She also started liking the quiet boy. Without the ugly clothes, the hood, baseball cap and glasses Potter looked very cute. Not in a manly way, he looked about thirteen years old and Millicent liked her guys big and tough… But Harry was very good looking.

"Ok, now let's get out! We still have a lot to do!" And with that she shot out of the bath, not paying any attention to her undressed state and the furiously blushing boy.

So far this was actually one of the best days in Harry's life. He couldn't remember the last time when he hadn't had to do anything. He just had to lie back or sit still. Half of his eyebrows were pulled out and his legs had been waxed, but he could live with that. Facial was actually quite pleasant experience.

He and Millicent had dinner together. She was envious, because the girl didn't dare to eat much – she was afraid that her stomach was going to look fat in her dress. Harry thought she looked fine, but Millicent just laughed at him. But she made Harry eat some pastries, because he on the contrary looked too thin…

Finally, after hours of getting ready it was time to go to the party. Millicent was dressed as a princess in a light blue dress made of fine silk with many layers of petticoats. She had a thing for princess dresses. And she had decided to look fine instead of sexy just to stand out. She was sure that most of other girls would go for 'sexy'.

"Harry come out! You look great!" Millicent beckoned.

"Move your skinny ass Potter!" Dudley roared. "I don't want to be late." He was in a foul mood, because he had seen his ex – girlfriend flirting with some other guys that day. Now Potter was Dudley's only chance to get back at her. Flat chance probably. It was his scrawny, ugly, clumsy good for nothing cousin after all.

Harry sighed and opened the bathroom door.

Dudley and Piers both gaped. No, it couldn't be the same Harry Potter.

Millicent smirked and hooked her arm under Harry's: "Close your mouths and lets go. I also don't want to be late."

Draco Malfoy was eyeing the crowd with expression of conscious superiority and boredom on his face.

He could afford that look. He was not just some stuck up baboon who tried to impress everyone at all costs. Draco didn't have to try. It came naturally to him. He was superior and most of people in the room agreed with that. And if they didn't, then they kept their mouths shut. Usually everyone did, some just didn't want to admit it, because they simply envied him.

Girls were looking at him with longing (and also some of the men). Guys wanted to be him. He was the prince charming tonight wearing white breeches, knee length boots and shirt made of very thin material.

Draco frowned in disgust. Pansy Parkinson had just entered the hall. With some lanky guy by her side. Must be one of her countless cousins. Draco hadn't asked her to be his date for tonight, so she had taken her cousin. A smart girl. She hadn't wanted to go alone and coming with a cousin still made her available for Draco.

But unluckily for her, Draco was still not interested. He could afford coming alone to the party. He didn't need a girl to prove that he was a man.

His mistake had been asking Pansy to accompany him to a school ball when he had been sixteen (Young and dumb). Who could blame him? She was good looking and had a great rack. However since then Pansy Parkinson was convinced that they were meant to be together in a lawful marriage. But Draco saw Pansy for who she was. No amount of hair die and makeup could hide who she was – a harpy. She was a carbon copy of Draco's mother (unfortunately Narcissa liked Pansy very much). But he was not going to let Pansy to claw hold him.

Actually, he thought that the bitch should try marrying some old millionaire and driving him into grave. She would be perfect for that.

Oh, and by the way – this was Draco's house. He was hosting the Halloween party. He was the prince, this was his palace and people here were his court. But somehow that didn't make the Malfoy heir as pleased as some years ago when he was still a teenager.

"Try to not be so shy Harry," Millicent was trying giving the poor boy last instructions while they were sitting in the limo. "Don't stare at the floor for all the time, Ok? Your eyes are very beautiful. We are lucky that you don't walk like Dudley…"

"What's wrong with my walking?" Dudley was indignant.

"Nothing," Millicent smirked. "But when you walk it looks like you are wearing a diaper or something…"

"I don't!"

"Of course, I already said that there is nothing wrong… Girls don't really mind if a guy has something there," Millicent looked at Piers who laughed smugly, Dudley rolled his eyes and even Harry smiled a bit.

"And, Harry, when you talk, do it quietly, then it would be harder to tell that you are not a female."

"And you Dudders," Piers added. "Don't get too drank, or you will forget that Potter is your cousin and start hitting on him."

Dudley screwed up his face in repugnance: "You are disgusting Polkiss!"

"Oh, poor Duddikins…"

They kept bickering for a while until the car approached the Malfoy Manor.

Meanwhile…

"You look deadly bored, Draco."

"I b feel /b deadly bored Blaise," Draco took a lazy sip from his glass.

"Grouch."

"Clown."

"I know. We can always get drunk…"

"I hate hangover."

"Your snobbish attitude spoils my fun."

"I am not stopping b you /b from getting drunk, am I?"

"Who am I? An alcoholic? I don't drink alone," Blaise pouted mockingly.

"Then go, find Pansy, tell her that I like drunken women," Draco smirked.

"Hey, that rhymes! Drunken – women… do you see it!"

"Fuck off, Zabini…I'll go, get some fresh air…" And with that Draco stood up and gracefully strolled across the ballroom not paying attention to anyone and seemingly not noticing hungry stares directed at his body.

Harry started getting tired. He was not used to crowd. This was after all his first party. Luckily everything had gone according to the plan.

"Take your date under your arm, Dudley," Millicent nudged the boy. "And smile!"

Dudley did as he was ordered and a couple of minutes later had almost forgotten who his 'date' actually was. After all Potter didn't matter. He was just a decoration. Dudley had nothing to be ashamed of; he was not the guy who was wearing a dress after all.

"Ok, Ha… Harriet," Dudley was pretty proud that he had managed making up the name on the go. "Lets go, I see some people I wanted to meet."

Harry had never thought that he would be gripping Dudley's arm looking for some support and security.

They roamed the house and talked to the people. Well, Dudley talked. Harry answered questions when he had no other choice. He was not very comfortable with the whole situation and unfortunately many of the people they talked to the pair were taking interest in him. So he had to talk too much for his liking and blush all the time.

Dudley was amused and annoyed in the same time. Some of the guys were really taken by 'Harriet', they flirted getting reproachful glares from their dates. Dudley knew that the only thing what stopped them from going any further was the fact that they knew that 'the girl' was with him.

Potter, being a dunderhead, didn't notice anything. He just kept blushing, like some kind of Victorian virgin which obviously some guys found extremely attractive. Dudley had to admit that Millicent had cleaned the whelp up nicely. Who would have thought… Only one thing, Dudley started getting annoyed, because Potter was getting too much attention and taking it away from himself.

"Well, Dudley, I see it didn't take long for you to find a new pastime," a tall girl with wavy blonde hair was suddenly standing in front of them. "Should I tell her what a jerk you are?" She was dressed up as a pirate girl with a white blouse and corsage which showed off a lot of cleavage and beads in her hair. She looked like a female version of Jack Sparrow. 'Damn sexy,' thought Dudley his mouth watering.

"Hello Vicky," he greeted his ex-girlfriend. The one who had ditched him two days before the Halloween party.

"Don't Vicky me…"

"Jealous honey?"

"Of course not!"

"You didn't want to come with me…"

"Oh, and that meant that you should ask the first bitch you met?"

"It is not like that. Harriet," Dudley turned to his 'date'. "I need to talk to Vicky. Amuse yourself for a while." Harry was dismissed.

And with that Dudley pulled the girl away. Probably somewhere they could talk and make up. And Harry was left alone. He didn't feel comfortable alone in the room full of people whom he didn't know, some of them looking at him strangely. Most of them were getting drunk and all of the noise made his ears hurt.

The boy looked around for Millicent, but didn't see her.

So Harry decided to go outside and get some fresh air. He tried to get through the crowd, ignoring all the remarks in his direction which made his cheeks burn. He was sure that there was a nice garden around a house like the manor.

And there was.

First Harry simply walked around looking at the rouses and all kind of other flowers, exotic trees and bushes. The garden was magnificent and obviously well looked after.

Then when he was already about to return inside he walked through a green fence which was hiding something amazing. Secluded from the garden there was a small square with fountain in the center

Harry sat on the one of benches, deciding to stay in this little hideaway for a while. He was just sitting on the bench and looking at a fountain which was truly wonderful and made him feel peaceful. The fountain was lit up from somewhere under the water and stood out in the dark garden.

Amazing.

Someone had said that there were three things one could watch forever, fire, other people working and water. Harry didn't mind testing that theory.

That was how Draco Malfoy saw the girl of his dreams for the first time. Like a princess who had stepped out of a fairy tale, she was sitting on his favorite bench, multiple layers of fine, white silk pooling around her. Hair, dark as the Halloween night reached just past her shoulders. Emerald green eyes were glistening in the light which was coming from the fountain and flecks of light from water were playing on her face and bare shoulders.

Like a real princess, so fragile and fair. Completely different from all those girls with loads of make up, huge breasts and bleached hair.

She was the only one he had seen tonight whom the princess's dress really suited.

Harry was deep in thought; there was something hypnotizing and soothing about water. But then he suddenly felt that he was not alone. The boy gazed around and his eyes stopped on the man with whom he was sharing the admirable sight.

A prince, the man was dressed as a prince and looked like the prince charming from the book of fairy tales he had sneaked out of Dudley's second bedroom when he had been about eight years old. The prince was tall and had broad shoulders; some strands of golden blonde, longish hair were hanging loose around a handsome face. And his eyes… there was something mesmerizing about those silver grey eyes. Or rather about the way they were looking at Harry suddenly making him feel very self-conscious.

Harry lowered his eyes, suddenly ashamed of his staring. He shouldn't have. It was not polite to stare at people. Then he heard steps on the paved path approaching him. Harry froze, the prince was approaching him. Harry didn't dare to look up. The man was so perfect. Was he really going to talk to him? He was about to faint.

"What an angel, like you, is doing here outside alone?" the stranger inquired in a low, husky voice.

The prince was talking to him. He was expecting an answer. Harry felt his cheeks heating up once again.

"Nothing…" that was not a proper answer, so Harry decided to be more eloquent. "Just watching… the fountain…"

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" The blonde continued.

"Yes," Harry wondered who owned all of this. The house was so huge, more like a palace.

"Maybe we could watch the fountain together? Would you mind, if I sat down here with you?"

"No," Harry shook his head. He could feel his companion sitting down on his left with his whole being, but still didn't dare to look up.

"So, why are you alone? Why isn't there a guy attacking me for making advances at his lady? Or he just went inside to bring you a drink? Is he big? I would like to know with how much pain I am going to pay for daring to talk to you," the man inquired lightly.

Harry chuckled and looked up: "No, no guy."

Draco was mesmerized by the sight in front of him, how those green eyes became alive and sparkling as the fair creature smiled.

"I can't believe that. The most beautiful girl in the party and without a date?" The blonde commented, and he really meant it.

Harry's cheeks turned redder than before and he again lowered his eyes shyly: "It's true."

Draco was cheering inside. He had no idea why was he suddenly so taken with her, but couldn't help himself, his lips quirked up when he tried to suppress a goofy grin: "Then I will have to offer you my company."

He dropped down on one knee and offered the lady his hand. Harry almost automatically put his palm in it and Draco pressed his lips against it.

Harry instantly pulled the hand back as if it had been burned. Draco was amazed by shyness the young woman showed; as if she had no idea how gorgeous and desirable she was. Was she real? Another girl would have instantly used the situation and started flirting with him, knowing that he was the Malfoy heir.

Draco stood up and sat back on the bench as close as he could to the mysterious girl: "Your palms are cold."

"Yes it's chilly," Harry gathered all of his courage and looked the stranger in the face, he just couldn't resist; the blonde stranger was so handsome.

"I could help you there," Draco offered his voice suddenly turning in a husky whisper and gathered the smaller hands in his larger palms making Harry shudder. "You know, your hands feel different than I imagined, they are a bit coarse… I wouldn't imagine…"

Harry immediately tried to pull away ashamed.

"No," Draco stopped him pulling the small hands closer to his lips and blowing hot breath at them. "I don't mind. They feel nice… soft and tender from upside… a bit coarser here," the blonde had started playing with his companion's small fingers without even noticing it.

"It's from cooking and gardening," Harry explained and instantly felt even more embarrassed knowing that it had sounded…well, stupid.

"So you are not only beautiful, you are also hard working. Tell me that you are smart and I will ask you to marry me," Draco shouted jokingly. He was not acting with his usual dignified coldness. He had never flirted like this and he had never talked such nonsense. He didn't care at the moment though. For the first time in his life he felt some strange flame burning inside him, something waking up inside him, making him stronger than ever… he felt as if he could move mountains, reach the stars… he was ready to do everything just to coax one more smile out of his lovely companion.

"Then I will have to think before answering," Harry tried to joke back, not sure if he succeeded, not being used to have a lot of conversations with people he didn't know.

Draco actually laughed. Harry also smiled shyly proud that for once he had managed to say something right.

"You have a beautiful smile," Draco whispered leaning closer to a small ear which looked so appetizing, so bitable.

Harry tried to lower his gaze, but the blonde stopped him, gently pushing his chin up with his thumb: "Please don't hide your eyes from me. Never. They are too beautiful."

Their eyes met. They looked each other in the eyes and couldn't break the contact. It was like swallowing each other. They wee drowning each in other's eyes, searching for something.

Then Draco wetted his lips and leaned down. Harry closed his eyes and waited. Slightly cold, smooth lips brushed his own. Draco had never kissed anyone so chastely, it was barely a kiss at all, however this was the greatest kiss in his life. He felt this one kiss could change his life.

They pulled apart; they were still looking each at other without talking. No words were needed anymore.

"Draco! Oh, here you are!" The magic of the moment was broken by a loud, obnoxious voice.

Draco wished the sword hanging by his side was a real thing and he could pull it out and run it through Blaise Zabini's chest. He couldn't have worse timing.

"Oh, I am interrupting, sorry! But Draco I need to tell you something."

"Now?" Draco's voice was suddenly cold and annoyed; he couldn't feel more reluctant to leave.

"Yes, now," Blaise pleaded with his eyes.

Draco looked at his fair princess apologetically: "I won't let it take more than a minute, Ok, I'm sorry. Wait for me, I will be back."

Harry nodded still in a daze his mind failing to process what had happened.

Draco let Blaise to lead him away.

"I hate you Blaise, I meat the woman who is going to be the mother of y children and you come and…"

That woke Harry up from his wonderful dream. Oh, God! What was he thinking? Children… He couldn't have children… The prince, he was thinking that he was a girl, a fair princess… he wasn't… they couldn't have any children together. He was not a princess, he was a poor orphan, not even a woman…

What had he been thinking, forgetting his place… Tears gathered in his eyes… He had no other choice. Harry ran. He ran away not looking back.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title** : Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humor :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story. Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: NC15

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing.

Chapter Two 

Draco understood why Blaise had pulled him away, because what he saw was worth it. Pansy Parkinson was completely drunk or even high and making out with her cousin. Blaise, who also knew the Parkinsons, assured his friend that the guy **really** was a cousin. Ewww…

However Malfoy instantly regretted leaving his companion when he didn't find her when he came back. Draco tried not to worry, he simply sat down and waited. But the girl still didn't come back.

Draco was not going to leave it like that. He went inside and searched through all of his house. Sadly without any success.

"Blaise!" Draco shouted. He managed to find his best friend at least. "I can't find her anymore! She had vanished. As if the earth had opened and swallowed her."

"Calm down, Draco," the other man was quite surprised to see the blonde so flustered. "Are you drunk?"

Draco rubbed his forehead tiredly: "I am not drunk. I just met the woman of my dreams and now she's gone!" His voice had risen almost to shouting when he finished the sentence.

"Ok, Ok, calm down, we will find her. I will help you looking for your princess, maybe she's in the bathroom or something, you know how long girls stay there."

"How could I know!" The Malfoyheir snapped. "I hope so…," he sighed trying to calm down.

Blaise raised an eyebrow looking at his friend: "I can't believe my eyes, Malfoy. What did she do to you? She must be really... something"

"She is…" gorgeous, innocent, tender… everything.

Draco roamed his house like a madman, brushing off everyone who tried to strike a conversation. He had to find her. Nothing.

It was as if the cheering, colorful crowd was mocking him, laughing at him. Nowhere. He couldn't find his princess.

"Ok, Draco, I found out that a girl in a white dress had been seen with some Dudley Dursley," Blaise patted Draco on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We will find her."

Draco had no idea who that Dursley was, but he would agree make talking his father into adopting the guy, if he only knew where he could find the girl he had met tonight. He hadn't even asked her name! What an idiot he was…

"Milicent," Draco nodded greeting the girl who was standing next to some muscular jock and another couple.

"Hello, Draco," the girl greeted. They knew each other from the first grade. Millicent was one of the rare girls who weren't trying to bewitch him. She knew for sure that the Malfoy heir was out of his league. That was refreshing and deserved respect.

"Have you met my boyfriend Piers Polkiss and Dudley Dursley?" Millicent introduced courteously. "And you already know Vicky Frobisher, don't you?"

Vicky was adulating Draco with one of her most dashing smiles. He had neither time, nor patience for that.

"I am most delighted," that was said with sarcasm which went unnoticed by the most of their group. "However I wanted to ask you about a young woman which had been seen in your company. White dress, dark hair, green eyes… I would like to know where I could find her."

Millicent's eyes almost bulged and she had to concentrate very hard to not allow her mouth fall open. She hadn't noticed before, but the mighty Draco Malfoy certainly was not being his usual self at the moment, he had that crazy gleam in his eyes and he looked as if the floor was burning up under his feet. She had known Malfoy for ages and never ever Millicent had seen him like this.

Oh, dear… He was completely, utterly, madly… But he had no idea with whom! No way, Draco couldn't find out about Harry. Nothing good could come out of it. Dudley looked like he was about to say something. Oh, no, Millicent wasn't having any of that.

She took Draco under her arm and not caring about the other young people led him to the side.

When the distance was enough Millicent looked Draco in the eyes. "Sorry, Draco, I can't let Vicky hear this. Honestly we have no idea who that girl was. Dudley asked her to walk around with him for a bit to make Vicky jealous. We met her just tonight; she told that her name was Harriet and nothing much more though. That is all I know, I am sorry Draco."

It appeared no one knew the mysterious girl. No one had seen or met her before. It almost seemed she had been a just a vision or a ghost. A mystery of Halloween night. She had vanished without a trace.

Cinderella had left at least a slipper. Draco didn't have even that.

Harry was walking in the direction where he thought his home was. He had taken of his fancy atlas shoes, because they had rubbed blisters on his feet. Now they were getting very cold.

But Harry almost didn't notice physical discomfort. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. This day had been more than he had experienced during his whole life.

He had flown to heaven and fallen back on earth in no time. And now, now he was descending to hell. What had he been thinking? He never got what he wanted and the prince, whose name was Draco couldn't bee his.

Harry couldn't understand himself. What had actually happened? He had been mesmerized, bewitched, spellbound… maybe he had just overdone living his part? He was not a pretty girl. He was not pretty at all. It was only the makeup and the beautiful dress. Why had he been so enthralled with blonde man?

He was extremely handsome, but since when Harry found other men attractive? It couldn't be right. To fancy another man. Uncle Vernon always talked about fags, damn poofters, and shirt lifters with disgust. Sometimes he had even hinted that he thought Harry was going to turn into one of them. Harry had always wanted to prove that Vernon was wrong. But what if he couldn't? He was a failure, he knew, he had been told that every day of his life, so that was to be expected. One more flaw.

What if he really was gay?

His first kiss had been with another man… it had been perfect. Just the memory send shivers down his spine and caused funny feeling in his stomach.

But it was not real. If his prince would know who he had kissed he would probably be disgusted. The thought itself made him sob. Even imagining the handsome face screwed up with loathing made him incredibly sad, sadder than he had ever been. Harry could easily imagine someone loathing and detesting him. It had happened to him for his whole life after all. But it hurt so much. This time it really hurt.

Teenager's feet were dirty and cold, so cold; he couldn't even feel it anymore. However the boy still could feel every bump and stone under his feet. Harry wished, he had some money for a cab. Well, but he hadn't even seen much money in his life. He hoped he was not going to get ill. It was very hard to do his chores when he had a fever, his head spinning and nose running. He still had a lot of homework to do for Monday. But it all somehow didn't matter for him.

A/N: This should end with Harry dying from pneumonia and Draco crying by his grave. But I am not that cruel. Cheers!

Harry was lying in his bed. He had just waked up. He didn't believe, he would be able to fall asleep last night; however, the boy was so tired, that as soon as he had left the bathroom after washing away his makeup and everything what could remind him of this night, he had dropped as if he was dead and slept until morning with no disturbances. Well actually, not until the morning, because it had been already morning when he had somehow managed to get home.

Luckily Petunia and Vernon had gone to visit Aunt Marge this Sunday; otherwise Harry wouldn't dream about sleeping in. It was almost afternoon, when the boy woke. His scull was throbbing after all and his throat felt as if a horde of angry cats was scratching it from inside and some parts of his body were aching. He would have to get up once, because there was no one to bring a mug of hot milk to him to ease his sore throat. No one was going to come and ask if he was feeling, Ok.

Harry knew that he shouldn't feel sorry for himself, it was not dignified, but right now he was. He couldn't express how sorry he was feeling for himself. The boy buried his face in the pillow and gave way to his bitter tears. He hadn't cried much lately, perhaps because he had accepted his fate, his place in the world and his family and acceptance came with numbness, it couldn't hurt him anymore.

It seemed that life had decided to give him a new reason to cry. It seemed there was no place for happiness in Harry Potter's life.

After November came December. But Draco Malfoy couldn't care less. He drank himself into oblivion at the New Year's party, but it didn't change anything. It didn't erase an image of a green-eyed beauty of his head. Nothing did. No amount of alcohol, partying or fucking could change it.

Soon the year turned to spring. Draco still hadn't found the girl and hadn't forgotten her. He was furious with himself, because whatever he did, he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. He didn't care about other women anymore; he couldn't bring himself to enjoy their company. Malfoy had a casual fuck when he felt like he needed it, but without much passion. He mostly spent his time studying or brooding.

He was angry at the fate for playing with him. It was a cruel joke indeed. He had never felt so passionate about anything in his life, but now he was obsessed with a girl with whom he had spent only mere minutes…

Today was the day Harry finally graduated from high school. He remembered when Dudley had graduated. He was excused from school himself that day, because he had to cut salad, bake pies and clean the house. He even had to draw a poster 'Congratulations Dudley!' was what he had written on it.

Aunt Marge was coming. They had a family dinner. Harry was 'excused' from it and it was actually a good thing, because otherwise Dursleys would keep comparing himself and their perfect son who excelled in sports and that way he had gotten accepted to college - 'University of Hogwarts'. Later Dudley went out to celebrate with his friends.

Harry's graduation was different. There was no one who was happy about him. There was no one waiting for him at home. Instead he had to hurry back to do chores. And there weren't any friends with whom he could celebrate.

Today was Harry's seventeenth birthday. It was not going to be different from any other days in his life. Not by much, anyway. He never received any presents, he had never had a birthday party.

Or maybe this was not going to be a regular day, because Harry had decided that this would be a good day to tell Dursleys that he was going to go to collage. He had been postponing it as long as it was possible, but it was important. How long could he hide something so important? He was feeling guilty for not saying them. They were his family after all, even if they didn't care.

"Uncle, aunt," Harry started after he had served them breakfast and they were halfway done eating. "I…I have something I wanted to talk about…to you." The youth was not sure why he was feeling so insecure, almost scared to tell them. Maybe for the first time in his life they would be happy for him. Maybe proud, just a little bit.

Vernon eyed his wife's nephew suspiciously as if he suspected that he was going to tell that he was planning shaving all of their hair while they were sleeping: "Then speak boy! I don't have all day."

"I… now when I finished school…I think… I," Harry stuttered.

"You will find a job and start repaying us for everything we have done for you, boy," Vernon always called him 'boy'. As if Harry was nothing, no one, as if he had no proper name.

"No, I, no," Vernon glared at the whelp who was trying to object him. But Harry took a deep breath and went on: "I am thinking about going to college." The boy finally managed to get it past his lips.

Vernon's eyes narrowed dangerously and Petunia stopped eating: "Oh, and who is going to pay for it? We are already paying for Dudley. Do you know how much it costs? I doubt that." Mrs. Dursley sneered maliciously. How could the whelp imagine that they were going to allow him to go to the collage!

"I know," the boy countered weakly. "But you won't have to pay, I got a scholarship and I think I could get a half time job…"

"Scholarship? You? With your grades? Are you delirious?" Vernon laughed nastily.

That was actually true. Harry had been a mediocre student. He received some really good grades occasionally in some of his favorite subjects. However he was often too tired or didn't have time to study or he had to do Dudley's assignments and didn't have time for his own. So, in the most of subjects his grades were not good enough to get a scholarship. Except in one.

"I… I got a scholarship in… in Arts…" Harry's Arts teacher had been sending his paintings, drawings and collages to numerous competitions. She had always told him, that Harry could become a successful painter. He had never believed that and Mrs. Mary had been forced to make him hand over his artwork to bring it to one contest or another. As usually she had sent Harry's works to the art department of 'Hogwarts Academy' without asking him. They didn't care about math or chemistry. His talent was all what mattered. And they strangely had agreed with Mrs. Mary, that Harry had plenty of it.

He had been shocked. He had never expected that. He hadn't dared to dream. He was going to college after all and even better – he would be able to do what he had always enjoyed doing. Draw and paint.

Apparently Vernon Dursley didn't like the idea that much, judging by his reddening face.

"A nice plan you got here, boy," Harry's uncle was not one who leave his anger inside. Usually it came out joined by drops of man's spit. "We accept you in our house feed you, clothe you; we spend our money on your education and one day you just leave, leaving your poor aunt alone. You know Petunia can't work in the garden, with her poor health, don't you? You are ungrateful, boy. Of course, what can I expect? You say you want to go to college? To study what? Art? To become a good for nothing idler? To keep disgracing our family!"

If Vernon's voice had been just angry in the beginning of his speech, then he was shouting furiously as he finished.

"I could still help you in the weekends," Harry offered weakly.

"Weekends! Weekends? And where are you going to live? Do you think you will keep living in this house and eating our food and only helping in weekends?"

"I will have a room in the dorms…"

"Dorms? Then get the hell out of my house! Go to your dorms boy!" Vernon's face had turned red as tomatoe, he had lost his temper completely.

"School is not starting until September…"

"Do you think I care!" Vernon stood up towering over his small nephew. The man was very angry. Harry flinched, afraid that his uncle would hit him. Dursley grabbed the boy by his shoulder quite painfully and showed him out of the dining room. "Get the hell out of my house ungrateful whelp! If you are going to do that…the thing you are going to do…then you will not stay under my roof. I had tolerated you for long enough!"

That was how Harry left. He didn't cry. Not at all. He didn't shed a single tear. All he was feeling was the familiar numbness. The boy didn't have to wonder why. Dursley's just couldn't hurt him anymore.

Harry was standing on the pavement in the front of Dursley's house. All of his belongings were packed in one suitcase which had been stacked in his room, because it was broken, it had only one wheel left.

He had nowhere to go and he didn't have much money.

Harry had no idea what he was going to do.

However right now he didn't feel anything. Only numbness.

Maybe he should be angry at his relatives… actually Harry thought that he had no right to be angry, because they had fed him all these years and they gave him place to stay. It was understandable that they were angry at him; Dursleys were forced to raise him even if they didn't love him. Never wanted him.

He could understand…

Harry dragged himself down the street in some undetermined direction… he really didn't know where, until he became awfully tired…

A pair of young, cheerful redheads was just returning home after a football match with their friends.

"That was great, wasn't it!"

"Yeah, brother, we rule!"

"Yes we do!"

"He wouldn't know…"

"What got him. I know."

"Hey, Forge, do you see it?"

"What Gred?"

"On the bench,"

"Yeah, a kid,"

"He shouldn't be sleeping on the bench, don't you think."

"No, course not,"

"Hey, hippy," one of the two identical red-heads nudged the boy who was currently sleeping on a park bench.

"Mmm," the teenager murmured, still refusing to open his eyes.

"Maybe we should…" Fred was probably suggesting playing some prank on the tight sleeper.

So Gorge shook his head. This was not the time to take advantage of someone who was not being careful enough. Instead Fred… or was it Gorge… shook the boy by his shoulder.

"What!" Harry immediately almost sprang to his feet.

"Doesn't look very cozy, Right Forge?"

"Couldn't have said better Gred,"

"So, what's the story?"

"We'd really liked to know what you are doing here in the middle of night,"

"And we won't believe that you just bought this bench to be your knew home,"

"And just moved in,"

"No, we won't."

"So?" both redheaded twins asked in unison and looked at the boy expectantly and Harry was quite convinced that they were not going to let him go, before he told them everything they wanted to know. Anyway, he was too tired to protest, so he gave in.

Harry told them, that he had been thrown out of house and hadn't found where to stay until college started. Yet. He was sure that he would be able to figure something out tomorrow. Staying outside for one night was not such a great deal… he would be fine.

Both twins locked their gazes as if making sure, they were thinking the same. Naturally they were.

"Hey!" The dark-hired boy yelped when he was lifted off the bench when both older boys hooked their hands under his armpits. One of them put his hand around boy's shoulders and other took Harry's bag.

"You can't imagine how angry our mother would be if she found out that we left a little, cute lad like you alone, sleeping in the park,"

"We really can't do that. You will understand, when you'll meet her, our mother," the other twin finished. "It won't do,"

"Nope,"

"So, we are,"

"Taking you with us!"

Harry was led somewhere. He knew that he shouldn't follow strangers, but both young men really didn't feel dangerous. They were kind of weird, at least the way they finished each others sentences, but they didn't scare Harry. They were persistent though and didn't listen to any objections; they were taking Harry home.

That was how Harry Potter was introduced to the Weasley family.

He had never met people like Weasleys before. They were loud, curious and kind, and welcoming. All of them were redheads and there were so many of them.

As soon as Harry stepped over their threshold, Fred and George had told their mother what had happened to Harry and got scolded about three times because of their foul mouth (because the twins had managed to stick in a couple of quite colorful words in their story mostly referring to the Dursleys).

Molly Weasley, who was the caring mother for them all, was horrified by actions of Harry's relatives. The woman kept repeating that she could not understand those people, how could they leave their own nephew on the street in the middle of night! And such a sweet boy! She kept burbling while furiously piling as much food on the plate in front of Harry as it could hold and urging him to have more mash potatoes.

Next Harry was introduced to Ginerva Weasley, their youngest and the only girl in the family. At first she appeared to be kind of shy and timid. However very soon Ginny obviously decided that their guest was no threat and actually the boy was more scared of her than the other way around and her true nature came out.

After Ginny Weasley's younger son Ron joined their company and he was obviously having hard time deciding if he was more interested in Harry's story or Molly's cottage pies.

Finally Arthur Weasley returned from his work (as often he had been doing overtime). As the official head of the family he announced that Harry could stay as long as he wanted.

The boy was informed that there were three more redheads who just were not around at the moment.

They had no doubts, if they would keep Harry or not. Two of the oldest Weasley sons had already mowed out of the Burrow and were working abroad, so the new family member could stay in Bill's and Charlie's room. Molly's eyes got a bit wet, even if her oldest boys were grown up men who were living their own lives, their place was not going to stay empty.

Every time Harry tried to object that he didn't want to be a bother, it was brushed off. Molly had decided and that was it. The dark-hired boy was staying.

As it could be expected Harry's staying at the Burrow had been prolonged for undetermined period of time. No one objected, they all took liking of the quiet dark-haired boy very soon.

This house and people – everything was so strange for him and different from what Harry had seen before. But in a very good way.

The Burrow was completely opposite to Dursley's house. The Privet drive number four had been a perfect, clean, almost like some kind of sterile laboratory or a picture perfect from a decorating magazine. It was hard to imagine that it was inhabited by a real family.

On the opposite The Burrow was homely and cozy. There was no doubt that it was a happy family house. It was not always so clean and often things were out of order, no matter how hard Molly was trying to keep everything under control and how loud she was yelling at her children to clean up after themselves.

Harry turned out to be the only one who willingly helped Molly with cleaning and cooking and other housework struggles. She was in seventh heaven. Molly complained that Ron couldn't cook even if someone would threaten to throw him in a pit filled with spiders (which was a very mighty threat) and Ginny could think only about boys and burned or over-salted everything she touched. And the twins… well, the twins were twins, some things one just couldn't expect from them. So, Mrs. Weasley thought that the boy was heaven-sent.

But when Harry told Mrs. Weasley that he was going to study art, she was truly impressed.

Contrary to Vernon Molly thought that it was wonderful, Harry was going to become a real painter and 'create beauty'. She didn't doubt that he was talented; after all he had received a scholarship. That proved something. So, Harry immediately became Molly's favorite and she insisted that he should stay at least until the school started. And she would be very happy if he stayed even after that.

The last days of summer passed quickly and very soon it was finally **the** **day**. Harry and Ron were going to college.

When the boys finished showering and dressed they climbed down the stairs only to find Arthur already finishing his coffee, ready to go to work. Molly was smiling broadly while cooking some bacon on the stove. Most of it was going to disappear in the bottomless pit which was Ron's stomach.

She had already prepared some sandwiches for Ron and Harry's dinner. Molly even got tear-eyed muttering something about her youngest son finally leaving the family nest… Ron just rolled his eyes: "Come on, Mum, I won't be leaving for at least for years more!" But he hugged Molly nonetheless and patted her back.

Both boys almost didn't speak on the bus. They were obviously both worried and excited in the same time.

Finally when they entered the Hogwarts' grounds Harry and Ron had to part, because they were taking very different courses.

Harry pulled his plain baseball cap lower over his eyes and waved to Ron who was going in the opposite direction. This was Harry's first day at college. He was very nervous, excited and scared. The lawn in front of college was filled with student's who were sitting on the lawn and relaxing or hurrying to their lectures.

Harry also had to run. Being late for his first class wouldn't be a good thing.

"Look where you are going!" Someone snapped at the boy angrily after he crushed in someone larger and stronger than him.

"Sor…" the boy lifted his head to see to whom he was apologizing to and froze. Every trace of color left his face.

"What!" The other man barked. "Cat's got your tongue? Do you think I am going to stand here all day long and wait for an apology?"

Harry was dumbstruck. Just apologize and leave. Speak up! His mind was screaming at him, but his body wasn't cooperating.

"Stupid, little shit," the furious blonde walked away, not sparing the boy a second glance.

"Draco, you scared the poor freshman, it's not his fault that you are not in a mood," Blaise tried to soothe his friend.

Harry however was still standing in the middle of the hall. Draco hadn't recognized him… he was not sure if he was relieved or disappointed. It should be a good thing. He was not the person Draco had met at the party… Yes, it was better like this. But it still hurt. Seeing his prince was like rubbing salt in a wound which still hadn't healed completely. And he had yelled at Harry, probably he hated him now.

Damn! Now he was really going to be late!

Harry was a bit tardy, but he managed sneaking in the auditorium unnoticed. It was something the boy was really good at.

That day the first lecture was composition. A lot of theory mostly. At least in the beginning. So Harry pulled out his note book and started writing everything down as fast as he could, however his thoughts were still elsewhere…

"Hey…" the blonde girl who was sitting next to Harry leaned closer to him. "A rough day, hm?"

Harry looked at the girl and the first thing he noticed was that she was wearing large earrings which looked like carrots and orange lipstick to match them. Her dirty blond hair was arranged in weird twists.

"It's nothing," he answered her.

"Well, my name is Luna Lovegood," the girl seized Harry's hand and shook it vigorously.

"Harry. Harry Potter."

Luna remained the only person with whom Harry had made friends by himself. And probably only because she had approached him first. He had never had any practice and couldn't know how one was supposed to do that; he had never had friends before.

But now the boy had Ron who had obviously decided that he had to be not only Harry's friend, but also something like an older brother. That meant introducing him to all of his friends. Some people the redhead knew from the high school, like Hermione Granger who was studying politics now, Neville Longbottom, who was studying biology, Lavender Brown, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas who were also majoring economics like himself plus Parvati and Padma Patil who were both going to become medics. They were nice, cheerful people and Harry enjoyed spending time with them.

Harry was mainly staying quiet, sitting with them and listening to their conversations and answering some questions when he was asked. But this was more than he had ever had.

He belonged. He belonged with Weasley family and he almost belonged with those young people who were chatting with each other around him. She was allowed to be here, with them. They could never imagine how much that meant to Harry.

Harry was really lucky. Things were looking up for him. He had found a job. It was on Saturdays and Sundays, he and Neville Longbottom helped one of Molly Weasley's friends Pomona Sprout with gardening. The lady owned a company which dealt with rare and exclusive plants. Naturally Harry intended giving everything he earned to Weasleys to cover the expenses, he didn't want to be a freeloader. Besides Harry didn't need any money anyway, he had never had it. The scholarship covered his studies and he had no idea what else besides food he needed.

So Harry's weekends were spent working in fresh air and he earned enough to give some money to Mrs. Weasley. He hadn't minded giving it all, but she had insisted that he had to keep some of it.

Harry had seen Draco for several times and also he had heard all kinds of rumors about him. The young man was someone a lot of people talked about, one of the most popular guys in the school. He had looks, wealth, and character and belonged to a very prominent family. Draco's surname was Malfoy. He was not only gorgeous, but also rich, popular and smart. He was majoring in law and was going to get his degree this year. How could anyone be so perfect?

Well, maybe not perfect. Malfoy was obviously quite arrogant, but Harry could justify that – he was an amazing person after all and had a reason to think of himself highly. Besides someone that popular had to appear a bit snobbish and reserved to keep away the mob of people who wanted to be his friends.

Harry was allowed only look. He knew that. For some reason he was happy and also sad every time he spotted the man. Every time he had an inner battle, he wanted to stop looking at the blonde man, stop tormenting his poor heart, but still, there was nothing he could do. As soon as he saw Draco Malfoy boy's eyes were drawn to him, the blonde was the only one he saw.

Harry had known that one day that was going to happen, no matter how large 'The Hogwarts' was. Harry knew that one day he would run into Dudley Dursley. But… the timing couldn't be worse.

Dudley had caught Harry unaware in the middle of one of his 'Draco watching' sessions. Even worse. Harry had figured out that he could draw a portrait. Draco's portrait. After all he had watched the man so much…

That was how Dudley saw him. With his sketchbook secretly observing one of the most popular guys in the school.

"I have known it all along you freek," Dudley sneered. "So dad was right, you are a little fag after all. Should I go and tell Malfoy that you would like to suck his cock, eh? I bet he's going to be 'very' happy about that. Will kiss you and ask to marry him."

Harry paled and blushed in the same tine. He was ashamed and scared. He knew this was wrong, but he had kept doing it, kept feeling it and now Dudley knew. If he told Draco, Harry was going to die from embarassment.

"Please, Dudley, don't," the boy begged.

"Why wouldn't I?" The other boy sneered.

"I'll do whatever you want, just don't tell anything," the younger boy offered.

"Fine. I won't." Dudley was pleased. Manipulating his cousin was a child's play. "But you owe me one. Don't forget that."

With that Dudley stalked away proudly. He hadn't decided what he wanted from Potter, not yet… but he would.

Harry was left fearing the day when Dudley would decide to collect his debt.

Sometimes Draco got the strangest feeling – he could swear that someone was watching him. He usually didn't pay any attention to other students. Someone was looking at him pretty often, usually trying to attract his attention.

However this time there was something different about it. Draco couldn't catch the culprit.

There was no one looking at him, when he lifted his eyes and looked around. Or if there was someone watching him, then it was not the person whose eyes he felt so intensely.

It didn't make Draco feel uneasy or skittish; it didn't feel like it was someone who hated and wished to hurt him. But he just felt it. Someone was there, staring at him intently.

Draco wasn't even sure why he cared this time. He was used to getting stared at. Draco was aware that he wasn't hard on the eye, so it usually didn't bother him at all. However this time it was somehow different, it intrigued him, made him curious.

Harry didn't believe in coincidences, but they obviously believed in him, or he wouldn't be standing in the front of The Malfoy Manor one pleasant Saturday morning.

"Don't be shy, Harry, come in, dear. I need to introduce you to Mrs. Malfoy before you start working," Pomona Sprout urged.

The truth was that Harry had actually been kind of promoted. However it turned out that not always a promotion was a good thing. Pomona Sprout had smiled widely and announced that she was going to entrust him taking care of plants in Mrs. Malfoys' garden. Harry had hoped that those were not the same Malfoys. But how many Malfoys were there? And how many of them owned a manor?

Harry felt like kicking and screaming and begging not to make him enter the house which he remembered too well.

But he couldn't say 'no' to Mrs. Sprout; how would he explain if she asked why he didn't want to work for Malfoys? Besides he was not used to saying 'no' to people; his mouth just didn't cooperate with his brain those moments. There was nothing the boy could tell her to make Pomona Sprout to change her mind, so Harry had to grit his teeth and get introduced to Mrs. Malfoy.

The woman appeared to be colder than an icicle. Her skin was aristocratically pale, and hair platinum blonde, pulled up in a tight knot above her head and a string of pearls around her neck.

She made it very clear that being in company of common people like Harry and Pomona Sprout was an act of great generosity from her. However she didn't mind Harry working for her. After all he was just a gardener. She hardly even looked at the boy. Harry couldn't blame her for that because he knew that there really wasn't much to see.

Still, the boy was pretty much relieved when they were excused and Sprout showed Harry around. The garden was huge as well as the mansion, so there were two other gardeners who were mowing lawns and tending to trees and flower beds.

Harry's responsibility was going to be the winter garden which was something amazing, he had to admit that. It was heated keeping the temperature constant all year long; only that way they could keep alive all of the exotic plants.

Harry was not sure if he could manage it, if he could really take the responsibility. But Mrs. Sprout insisted that he could and Harry owed her, she had been so kind and gave him work, even if he could do it only on weekends.

Being there in this mansion made Harry feel very strange. When Sprout had showed Harry the garden they had walked by the fountain where Harry had sat next to Draco that Halloween night almost a year ago. The young man had wanted to stand there and look at the beautiful thing for a while; he had thought that he would never see this place again. However Mrs. Sprout had other plans and hurried ahead.

It didn't matter. Harry would probably be able to return later. If he wanted.

Harry was sitting by the bead of beautiful orchids tending to their needs. They were gorgeous, but had no smell. Like pretty girls with no brain. There were nice to look at, but besides that didn't make a lot of difference if you put them in a vase in your room.

"Who are you," Harry was startled by a voice behind his back and almost cut down one of the exquisite plants with gardening scissors. However he didn't miss his hand. Blood started tickling down one of boy's fingers. Harry had no idea where all the blood was coming from. The cut couldn't be so deep; he was looking at the red liquid which was slowly coloring the soil under his feet.

"Damn! What kind of slowwitted klutz are you! Stop staring at it!"

Harry turned around and froze when he saw exactly who was standing there glaring at him angrily.

"Show me that!" Draco ordered and grabbed the boy's hand. "You should be more careful, you know," he noted reproachfully, got a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around Harry's injured finger. "This should do for now, but you must clean it or you will get an infection."

Harry could only stare mesmerized. There he was. The man of his dreams, holding his hand.

Suddenly Draco realized that he had been holding boy's hand for too long and he had started almost playing with the small fingers without any valid reason. Suddenly embarrassed, he released it.

"You must be the new gardener boy. The new **mute** garden boy," Draco smirked shooting the last glance at the small creature with strange, round glasses. The boy kind of reminded Draco of someone. He had no idea whom and he was not sure why he had approached the gardener; usually he didn't pay attention to servants, never greeted them, and never asked their names. They were servants and they were coming and going and doing what they were paid for. But something had drawn him to the boy whose face Draco could hardly see, because it was hidden by a baseball cap and those ugly glasses.

He turned around once more before leaving the winter garden. The boy was still standing by the orchids and cradling his arm as if it was an injured bird. Maybe he really **was** a bit slow?

Harry knew that he should have said something. But instead he had let Draco think that he was a retard or even worse. The problem was that Malfoy's appearance was so unexpected and presence so overwhelming – it made Harry freeze completely. Well, but even if he had said anything, what would it change? He had to stop dreaming about things which were not going to happen. What things? He was not even sure what things exactly…

Right now more important was to get something to clean his injury.

Draco returned to his room and to his brooding. That was all he was doing recently. It made him angry at himself. Why was this happening to him? He had thought of himself as a person who was strong and immune to such feelings, just a year ago he had been completely content with his life. He had money, he had friends and parties, but now it was not enough. A year had passed since that Halloween party, but he was still looking for a pair of green eyes wherever he went.

Draco stood up and walked to the window. He looked outside. The new gardener boy was struggling with his mother's roses. He looked so fragile and small, wearing an oversized hoody, a baseball cap and those bizarre, hideous glasses. An awful fashion sense. Draco had noticed that the young man had hardly reached his shoulders, when they had talked in the garden after the imbecile had cut his hand. But he had no idea, why.

Draco turned around and picked up the phone to call one of the girls who were always ready to entertain him. Well…who was he fooling? No matter how many meaningless liaisons he had, he wouldn't be cured of his obsession with a pair of emerald green eyes, but he needed to do something. Or he felt like going mad.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title** : Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humor :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story. Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: NC15

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing.

Chapter Three 

Harry was occupied with his favorite hobby. Watching a blonde who had the most enticing gray eyes in the whole wide world…

"Heya, Harry," Ron Weasley popped up quite suddenly making the other boy jump. "Sorry, I scared ya."

"No, it's, Ok," Harry smiled gently. "I was just lost in my thoughts, that's it."

Ron smiled at the smaller man warmly. The boy was so quiet and calm, so easy to be around. He never demanded anything, never argued. He really liked Harry. He liked Harry very much. Ron really liked Harry. Oh, God…

"Are you all right Ron?" The redhead's face had suddenly paled. Well, it was kind of how people with ginger hair were – pale, but Ron's complexion had suddenly turned three shades paler then it was usually. Harry could see every freckle on his best friend's cheeks.

"I…nothing… it's nothing… I am fine," Ron stuttered unconvincingly. However Harry noticed that the other man kind of mowed away from him putting some distance between them.

"Aha, right, I actually came here to tell you something. Guess what? The Halloween is on next Saturday."

Well, Ron could have never guessed how painfully aware of the fact Harry was.

"And?"

A mischievous grin spread across Ron's lips: "Every Halloween there is a party. In Draco Malfoy's house. Everyone goes. Ok, not everyone. Only the ones who are rich or hang out with the right crowd. And no freshmen."

"We are freshmen Ronald," Harry stated the obvious mimicking the tone Hermione Granger often used.

Ron gave a laugh: "Mate, you are scaring me! Well, yeah, basically we are not invited, BUT, we will go anyway! Cool, isn't it!"

The dark-hired boy grimaced. He was not sure if it was cool.

Ron completely misinterpreted his friend's reaction: "Don't worry; my brothers will sort everything out. They have a plan and contact's… Well, we are going. You are coming with us, aren't you?" Ron studied Harry's expression.

"Sure, if you are going…" as usually he couldn't say 'no' when he saw that hopeful, happy expression on his best friend's face. Maybe the fate will be merciful and he will fall sick or something or the twins will not be able to get any invitations… he wouldn't be able to explain why he didn't want to go anyway…

"Great!" Ron patted him on the shoulder and stood up. "Ok, I need to run, or professor Vector will behead me… You wouldn't believe how nasty that chap can be, can't tell by looking at him…"

Ron had run off and Harry sighed tiredly. What was he going to do now? Maybe nothing. Maybe he would just wear some 'bag over face' costume or something, stay in the dark corners and no one would see him and then it would be over fast and uneventful.

The usual company was sitting on the lawn under the willow they had declared theirs.

"Heya, kiddies!"

"Fred! Gorge! Hi!" Seamus greeted.

"Who are you calling a kid here?" Dean Thomas stood up to shake hands with the twins.

"Not you, Dean, not you," Gorge grinned.

"Hey!" Ron growled.

"Whatcha doin' baby brother?" Ron turned red obviously not happy with his brothers.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Naturally she thought that it was too easy to wind Ron up.

"Well, we are here to do business," Fred stated seriously. "Gorge," he stretched out his hand.

"Fred," the other redhead took an envelope out of his bag and put in his brothers hand.

"Ok, kiddies. This is for Ron, you will go as Rupert Wellington…"

"Rupert?" Ron interrupted. "Why Rupert? It sounds kind of poof…"

Fred rolled his eyes: "Ok, take this one then; you will be Jonathan Thorpe, is that manly enough for you?" Ron nodded.

"Seamus, you won't mind being Rupert, would you?" The Irish man just shrugged.

"Fine, Dean, you are going to be Christopher Dundee," Dean nodded. "Neville, you will go as Peter Parkinson, Hermione, you will be Susan Donovan," Fred finished and looked at Harry looking slightly guilty.

Harry wondered if they had forgotten about him, it kind of hurt, but it would be for better, because he wouldn't have to go then.

"There is only one little problem, sorry Harry, but you will have to be Emily Brooks…" George tried to look sorry, but Fred was snickering behind his back and that spoiled other twin's efforts.

Harry gaped. Wasn't 'Emily'…

"But that's a girl!" Ron shouted indignantly. "Harry's a male!"

"Thanks, Ron, haven't noticed," Fred sighed exasperatedly. "The thing is that this is all we could get though, Harry, you will have to go as a lady, sorry, but we will get a very nice costume for you! Don't worry!"

Oh, no, Harry couldn't believe it. It was too much for him. The history was repeating itself. He refused to believe that it was possible. Should he really be so unlucky? Was it possible to be that unlucky?

"Are you mad?" Ron spoke on Harry's behalf while the boy in question was clutching his bag too tightly and trying to think of a way to get out of this. "Harry's a bloke! Why couldn't you get a man's invitation for him!"

"Well, Ronekins," Gorge spoke as if he was trying to explain something obvious to a stupid child. "Beggars are not the choosers. The guy who got us those invitations gave us the ones who would not be used, because those people decided not to come. There were no more blokes, so we took what we could get. Of course you can switch with Harry here any time," Ron looked appalled.

"That's a 'no', if I'm right. Believe me, you would be the Emily, if I thought that you could pull it off, sorry Harry, but don't you worry, we will dress you up nicely and it is a costume party, so probably you won't be the only lad in a drag. It's better than the costumes some people choose anyway."

It was obvious that Harry really was the only one who 'could pull it off', because other guys were tall, had board shoulders and too much muscles.

"I agree, it is nut such a big deal," Seamus put in. "I could go as a girl also, so no one will really believe that I am one".

"Of course, you would like that, 'Rupert'," Dean snickered.

"And you will be my sugar daddy, darling," Seamus flickered his eyelashes at the other boy seductively.

"Dream on!" Dean stuck out his tongue.

Harry was forgotten as they went on talking about the 'big event'. He hadn't even had a chance to protest and say that he was not going. The dark-hired boy sighed. He just didn't know how to stand up to people and say 'no'. Yes, everything was his own fault. No right to complain.

Harry was sitting in Ginny's room. He sometimes helped her with homework; the younger Weasley was still in high school.

"It is not fair," the girl complained. "I am only a couple of years younger than Ron and they are not taking me to the greatest party in my life!"

"I don't think your life is going to end a day after tomorrow," Harry smiled kindly, amused by the drama only a teenage girl was capable of. "But if you like I can give you my invitation…"

"Thank you Harry," Ginny grimaced. "But they won't let me go anyway, but I appreciate it. You are a real friend, not like someone. I would change all those brothers for one like you any time. Well, maybe except Charlie and Bill."

After a moment of working in silence the read head suddenly jumped off the bed they were sitting on: "Oh, but Harry! I will be able to dress you up for the party and do your pretty hair and put on the make up!"

The boy winced painfully. What was about those girls? Why did they enjoy turning him into one of them so much? How should really cut his hair. It was probably one of things which turned him girly.

"I am wondering what Kind of costume Fred and George are getting for you…" Ginny continued enthusiastically.

Harry's breath caught. He had been so busy contemplating about every other aspect of the situation that he had forgotten that the twins were going to choose an outfit for him. That could turn out very bad. Trust twins to choose something decent… No way! This was a doom.

Draco was trying to calm down his mind with a glass of whiskey. Was not helping. He felt sick and disgusted with himself. Today was an anniversary. A year had passed since he had changed into this. This weak, miserable person, who was doing nothing but moping around.

He had always been strong, invincible. That was what he had learned from his parent's who had been never around and when they were… they didn't care much. He could do whatever he wanted as far as he didn't tarnish the image of 'the perfect family'. And keeping up the appearances was something he had become good at.

He had learned to be cold, calculating and always the best. Draco was perfect in eyes of his friends and their parents. The secret was simple - nothing could touch him, he did what he had to do. He played, he pretended sometimes, but… it was mostly who he was – perfectly cold, kind of unemotional person.

But now… he had turned into this moping mess. Just because of some stupid girl who had probably just played with him. What a silly fool he had been! Women liked him, because he was cool, untouchable, but with Harriet he had acted like all of the other guys who turned into babbling simpletons when they were around someone they liked.

Probably that was the reason she had run from him as fast as she could. He had screwed it up, or she simply hadn't liked him… but he had seen it in her eyes…

"Damn it!" Draco threw the glass across the room, smashing it against the wall. He had spent a year obsessing about a woman! What was wrong with him?!

That was it. This had to stop. Tonight he was going to forget about her. The old Draco Malfoy would be back. He would even screw Parkinson or any other girl he wished. It was time to forget and move on.

It was worse than Harry had expected. The twins had outdone themselves. Oh Dear God…

"What is this?" Harry groaned poking the soft fabrics with his finger. It felt nice, but…

"Your costume of course!" Fred grinned proudly.

Harry just looked at the older male skeptically: "Yes, I kind of got that, but it's – what is it supposed to be?"

"Oh Harry, don't fret. It is going to look perfect on you, believe me!" George was being overly enthusiastic.

Harry picked up the hanger inspecting the offensive item – offensive was the right word for it: "You want to send me there half naked?"

"Shh, Harry, you have nothing to worry about, it covers all what is important like a half of your face with that and, and it even is a costume with kind of trousers! See! It's good!"

"But those trousers are almost transparent!" Harry protested. "And that top doesn't cover my belly!"

"Well, Harry, you have nice legs and belly," Fred stated and the dark-hired boy's cheeks suddenly turned bright red. "Oh, don't worry; I wasn't checking you out like that!"

"Aha, and look at those," George joined in the persuasion showing Harry two pieces of something which reminded him of breast shaped jelly only kind of more solid. "These are silicone; the girl in the shop told me that you can't tell difference, even if you are groping them through the fabric."

Harry groaned, he was not going to let anyone grope his fake breasts.

Fred opened his eyes to say something, but Harry cut him off: "No, if you want to try groping them, then you will have to wear them yourself, there will be no touching after I put them under my top."

"Oh, Potter, you are so cruel," Gorge whined.

That moment Ginny barged in the room: "Oh, my God! Is that Harry's costume! That's so cute! Ok, boys, shu, shu, go, do what you need to do. And leave 'us girls' alone, I need to get Harry ready for the party. Hermione is also coming every minute," the redhead winked at Harry who sighed exasperatedly.

Harry didn't think that he would be able stop blushing anytime soon. If people stopped staring it would probably be fine, but obviously he was not going to be that lucky. It had started when he had left Ginny's room, dragged by the younger Weasley and pushed by Hermione Granger.

As they entered kitchen the Twins cheered, Ron chocked on his hot chocolate, Mrs. Weasley turned away from whatever she was cooking on the stow and raised an eyebrow. Then she smiled: "Oh, dear, Ginerva, what have you done to poor Harry!" Molly chuckled.

Harry's face was burning up all the time and it still hadn't stopped as they entered the Malfoy manor without any problems, no one asked questions or doubted their identity. That was a great relief for Hermione and Neville who were the only ones actually worried, because they were doing something wrong. Hermione was good at hiding it and appeared only mildly uncomfortable; however Neville was a nervous wreck.

Seamus instantly went looking for the bar and Dean ran after the 'Insane Irish man' to keep an eye on him.

"Ok, it's time to mingle," stated Gorge and both older Weasleys also strolled off leaving Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville by themselves.

Harry looked at Neville and Hermione; they were obviously feeling as lost as himself, not sure what they should do. And Ron… Ron had his eyes on Harry's slight form too closely making the dark-hired teen feel a bit uncomfortable under others scrutinizing gaze. What was wrong with him?

The redhead had hardly uttered a word tonight. He was switching between outwardly staring at Harry or stealing glances when he suddenly realized that he was being too obvious.

"Guys," Harry started timidly. "Shouldn't we do something?"

"Mmm…oh, yes," Hermione snapped out of it. She had been looking around at the people, costumes, lights, decoration, manor itself. It **was** grand, really. "Maybe we could sit down somewhere?" The bushy hired girl suggested.

Neville nodded vigorously and Hermione led the way over to couches which were positioned further in the ball room.

Harry was startled when he suddenly felt Ron's hand on his bare shoulder guiding him through the crowd. The taller male was looking around, suddenly feeling very aware of hungry eyes his best friend attracted. He put his other hand on Harry's waist shooting cold glares at everyone who dared to look at his best friend.

Damn, perverts! But Harry looked breathtaking in his costume – that was something Ron couldn't deny. He seated the dark-haired youth on the sofa, remaining on his feet: "Would you like something to drink, Harry?" Ron offered courteously.

Harry shrugged: "Do you think they have any pineapple juice?"

Ron smiled affectionately: "They probably do. I'll see if I can find it for you."

And the boy left in the direction of the bar.

Hermione's eyes bulged. Her friend was acting as if Harry was his date for the night. That was kind of funny, especially since neither realized how weird it looked. Lately Hermione was contemplating what was happening with Ron, the way he was recently looking at Harry and behaving himself in his presence… It was hard to believe that Ron could be attracted to his foster brother, but… if one did stick to the bare facts, it was obviously there, quite unexpected though.

Harry was sipping on his juice, Ron as well. Neville also had decided to be a gentleman and brought some punch for him and Hermione. They had skipped in a conversation discussing the people on the dancing floor and their costumes and other trivial things.

This was very good for Harry. He felt safely obscured from public view, sitting with Hermione on the one and Ron on his other side. Besides he hadn't seen Dudley yet which was also a very good thing.

"Hey, look at that," Ron suddenly pointed out and everyone looked at the dancers. "Malfoy is putting on quite a show."

There was Draco Malfoy in the middle of the dance floor wearing indecently tight black leather pants and white ruffled shirt which left his smooth, pale chest exposed. The blonde was grinding against some black-haired vampire girl; or the other way around. Didn't matter actually.

"Looks hot," Neville blurted out, blushing afterwards.

"Yeah," Ron continued. "It appears that Malfoy also can let himself go."

Hermione giggled what was very untypical, so Ron looked at her strangely.

"It's just strange," she commented. "I thought that guy was made of solid ice or something. It is interesting to see him like this. 'Letting himself go'."

Harry however had nothing to say, seeing the blonde like that, rutting against that girl, was making something clench painfully in his chest. He was feeling sick.

"Guys," Harry sprang on his feet. "I have to go. I will be back."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Ron was ready to follow.

"No, Ron, I'll be fine," Harry brushed him off.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione rolled his eyes at boy's 'knight in shining armor' act. "You can't follow Harry everywhere tonight. 'She' is going to 'Lady's,'" the girl smirked.

The 'Lady' in question was very grateful that his friend and her logics had made a valid excuse for him, so Harry could sneak away to be alone for a bit.

Ron's eyes followed the boy as he disappeared in the crowd. The redhead still felt better if Harry was where he could see him.

Draco was enjoying himself. For a moment he had thought that he would be able to go along with it. Let it go. A warm body, mowing seductively against him, creating quite pleasant friction… he was leaning down to kiss Patricia and looked in her eyes… He wished he hadn't. They were charmingly brown, should be warm and welcoming, but they were not. They were not right. Cold, calculating shallow… and also, simply not green.

Draco pushed the girl away rather abruptly and made his way through the crowd ignoring stares and the dark-hired girl's protests as she called for him to come back.

He wanted to get away.

As usually Draco's feet carried him to his hiding place – the fountain.

"Damn, it! Damn, me, damn, her," the blonde swore quietly, not believing what a pitiful idiot he had become.

When Draco stepped through the fence of bushes, he saw that obviously he had no chance of being alone. Someone was already there. He had enough; he was the Lord of this manor and was not going to hesitate to use his authority.

"Whoever you are, get lost," the blonde ordered using his most commanding tone, startling the other person.

The girl who was dressed as an exotic temple dancer spun around sharply almost falling of the bench.

Draco's eyes ran up and down the petite body. Lean, long legs, flat belly, very nice long arms…

Then Draco froze as his gaze stopped on the face. He knew those eyes; they were the same ones which had been plaguing him for a year since he had seen them the last time.

The girl apparently recognized him and instantly was on her feet, ready to flee. For some reason she looked more than startled, almost frightened.

But Draco was not having any of it. Not after a year of excruciating longing… he had no plan, just not to let her get away.

"No! Stop right there!" Draco hurried after the young woman who obviously intended to run away and grabbed her by the arm spinning her around in the same time. She was as lithe as a feather and fell right into blonde's arms.

"It's you, isn't it," Draco stated having almost no doubts as he was looking in a pair of radiant green eyes… shining with tears? The blonde reached for the flimsy cloth which obscured the lover part of girl's face. His fingers were trembling madly as they uncovered the face which had been haunting his dreams for the past year.

For a moment Draco was simply staring, studying the most beautiful face in front of him. He couldn't decide what to do or what to say when they were disturbed by voices somewhere in the background.

"Let's go somewhere we won't be interrupted," the blonde pulled his companion to a door hidden behind ivy's, gripping her wrist tightly.

"No, I can't," Harry tried to resist, struggling to free his arm. "Please let me go."

"Oh, no, we are going to talk," Draco hissed through the clenched teeth. His head was a mess, conflicting emotions were tearing him apart – rage, joy, surprise, passion, impatience, relief…

"Please, no, let me go, you don't understand," Harry pulled back with as much strength he could gather. This was not much since he was much smaller and weaker comparing to the older male. So Harry's struggling was actually fruitless.

"Oh, yeah, I don't?" Draco challenged.

"I will give you a chance to explain then," he took Harry by his waist and lifted him up throwing the petite beauty on his shoulder.

"Let me down!" Harry yelped clutching on Malfoy's shirt fighting not to loose his balance. Being carried up the stairs with one's head down didn't make one feel safe. Draco's grip on Harry's upper leg only tightened.

Draco pushed his bedroom door open, walked in and sat his 'hostage' on the couch like a pretty doll. He took in the sight in front of him; Harriet, if it really was her name, looked so small and vulnerable in contrast with the large, dark piece of furniture.

The blonde sat down himself, much closer than it was necessary as there was enough room, almost pressing the other in the corner of the couch. Draco reached out and let his fingers caress the smooth cheek, he couldn't stop himself - he needed to touch her. When she was here in front of him there was no way he could resist.

Harry could feel Draco's uneven, hard breathing. Blonde's hand rested on his bare shoulder, his thumb was caressing boy's neck.

"Draco, please don't…" the boy turned his head away.

That riled the blonde up: "Don't? Why not? I am a Malfoy. I get what I want. I take what I want. And it's you," Draco gripped the delicate chin forcing the woman who was his obsession to look in his silver gray, passionate eyes

More tears gathered in Harry's eyes, one escaped and ran down the pale cheek. He felt as if pain was tearing him apart from inside, it hurt so much.

"You are crying now. Are you sorry?" The dark-hired beauty tried to look sideways, but Draco wasn't having any of it. "You should be sorry; you can't imagine how you tortured me, how miserable I was for the last year…"

"I am sorr…"

"I don't need your apologies," The blonde interrupted his companion coldly. "Better make it up to me," with that he attacked Harry's lips with pure predatory force and passion, instantly pushing his tongue inside others mouth.

For a moment Harry was too surprised to react at all, then fear mingled with pleasure as Draco Malfoy, his beautiful Prince was caressing his tongue with his own.

Draco was in heaven, but he had to stop or he would take the fair creature in front of him right there and then.

The blonde let go of the sweetest lips he had ever tasted (even if it sounded like some romantic nonsense it was how he felt)…

For a moment he was just looking at the beautiful face. Harriet still had her eyes closed, regaining her breath.

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen," Draco whispered. "I want you more than I have ever desired anything in my life. I lost you a year ago, now I found you again There is no way I am letting you go again."

Small hands pushed him away: "Please, those words, they can't be true! Let me go and forget everything," Harry pleaded. "I am not who you think I am. This is a mistake an illusion. I am not real."

Draco laughed, because he hadn't heard such a nonsense before: "Who are you then? No, you know, I don't care. I was looking for you for a year, after you left without even saying your name… you can't imagine how angry you make me," he cupped Harry's face with his both palms, holding it tightly and leaned down. Draco ran his tongue across the soft lips.

Harry lifted his arms pressing them against Draco's chest: "No, don't, you will regret it; I don't want to hurt you." Harry sobbed.

The older male was taken aback by other's confession and obvious truthfulness and caring in it. However he still didn't understand. Draco sighed and sat back putting some more distance between them. He gathered one of small hands in his larger ones, caressing them gently.

"You can't imagine how much you hurt me already. I wish I never knew you, I don't understand what happened to me after I met you as if you were the only woman in the world… at least for me. Maybe it was because I couldn't have you, but I wanted you more than anyone in my life. Can you understand that?

I want you. I will do whatever you will ask me to do; I will give you whatever you ask. Just to have you," Draco looked aside and laughed. "See? Do you see what you have done? I am insane…but I don't care, ask me whatever you want, you will have it, just don't leave me," the blonde offered gazing in the brilliant green eyes as if looking for the soul behind them.

Silent tears finally broke free running down the round cheeks: "I… I didn't know, I'm sorry, so sorry," Harry sobbed. "This, this person you are obsessed with… I, I am not real. I didn't want to deceive you. But I am not who you think I am, really. You will hate me…"

Draco smirked: "I already hate you; I spent every day hating you after you left me a year ago." That was meant as a joke, but Harry didn't feel like laughing.

"I ran away… because,… I had a reason," the boy choked on a sob.

"Please stop crying and just tell me what the matter is," Draco gently caressed away tears from his companion's face with his thumbs. "I am sure whatever it is, we can sort it out. The girl so beautiful shouldn't cry."

"I'm not. Not who you think," Harry wrapped his hands protectively around himself and turned his head away. "I am not a beautiful and I am not a girl," he whispered.

"What?" Draco wasn't sure if he had heard correctly.

"I am not…beautiful and…and not a girl at all," he repeated a bit louder and with more despair.

It appeared that the blonde didn't actually grasp what he's been told. Or didn't believe.

Harry closed his eyes looking pained and reached behind his top and pulled out the silicone padding, putting it next to him on the sofa: "I am a boy. I am sorry; I didn't want to deceive you, but…"

The dark-hired boy didn't dare to look at the older man. He didn't want to see Draco's anger and disgust; he didn't want to see pain and accusation in the stormy grey eyes. Even in all those years when he was living in a family who hated him, Harry had never felt so much pain. He hadn't wanted this, it had just happened, but he still felt so guilty, so sad, his heart was breaking into million peaces…

"Get out," Draco was sitting on the floor in the front of the couch hiding his face behind his palms "Get out!" He repeated again, his voice colder than ice, stabbing like knife.

Harry didn't need to be told again. He had expected it. The boy was on his feet and leaving. At the door he stopped and looked back for the last time wishing it hadn't happened like that, whishing he could do something to take away Draco's pain, wishing he were a girl after all, but he knew, he couldn't, so he left, closing the bedroom door behind him. It was over.

Outside, in the hall, Harry had to steady himself, holding against the wall, as he was shaking madly. The boy fixed his 'breasts'. He took a deep breath and hurried back to his friends, he could not stop the tears, so he just kept his head down, refusing to look at the people who were talking, dancing, and enjoying the party and themselves. It was all just a colorful blur to him.

As Harry reached his friends they instantly saw that something was wrong. Ron and Hermione jumped on their feet asking what had happened, but the dark-haired boy just shook his head refusing to talk and begged them to take him home.

Draco was not sure what exactly he was feeling. Surprise? Betrayal? Disappointment? Disgust? Pain? Sadness? Anger? Yes, anger was definitely there, the simplest one to distinguish from the cocktail of emotions.

He was still sitting on the floor next to the couch. Draco had no idea how long he had been like this. The blonde just couldn't pull himself together. Everything had happened so fast.

When he had noticed the creature of his dreams again, after a year, he had been so happy, so foolishly full of joy and excitement. He could still feel the dark hair so soft when he had touched it, he could still smell it. Draco was still drowning into emerald green eyes so shy, innocent and soulful.

Draco still wished he could reach out and touch the skin with texture most delicate. He wished he could taste those small, pouty lips, run his hands down those perfect limbs. The creature had round shoulders which were making him to want to bite them. And the neck which was begging to be licked.

The lust. He had wanted the creature more than anyone in his life, before he had found out that his fair princess, his temple-dancer was no girl. And after he found out… probably the most disturbing part of everything was that even now, after he had found out the truth, some of the desire was still there. It was so confusing.

"It is a boy, a boy. A male, I am not gay, I don't like boys," Draco whispered to himself, trying to convince his confused body. He had fantasized about 'Harriet' so much that he just couldn't switch, couldn't adapt to the new reality yet. In reality it had been just a fantasy.

"It is he, a male. You don't want him…" the blonde murmured.

"Talking to yourself Draco?" a familiar voice drawled from the direction of the door. Draco could hear that Blaise was smirking.

"Get the fuck out," the blonde ordered, but without much might in it.

So obviously Blaise ignored his best friend, well, he would had ignored Draco even if he had actually yelled at him. That was Blaise.

He strode over to the cabinet where he knew, Draco kept his drinks and poured some rum in two glasses.

"Spill, blondie," Blaise handed Draco one drink which was accepted without hesitation.

Draco put the glass to his lips and drowned all the liquid in one gulp.

"I met her again, tonight," Draco whispered. "Only it was not her."

"You lost me here Malfoy," which was rare. Usually Blaise was kind of perceptive. But his friend was not making any sense.

Draco laughed mirthlessly: "I am kind of lost myself. Can you imagine? The girl is not a girl at all. It was a fucking bloke!" And he threw the glass across the room. He had lost count of glasses which had been smashed against that wall this year.

"Oh," Blaise blinked. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, 'oh', and, yes I am very sure," Draco scowled.

"I didn't see that coming," Zabini frowned.

"Me neither," Draco laughed darkly.

"And?"

"And, what?"

"What did you do?" Blaise had a gall to look amused.

"What do you think I did?" To Draco it was obvious. "I kicked her… him out. What else did you want me to do?"

Blaise looked at his friend as if he was half witted: "No, Draco, no, you didn't! You were moping around for a fucking year and now, when you finally have what you want in front of you begging to be… you throw him out? And now you will be moping for another year or for the next decade?"

"Of course not!" Draco spat. "It's over, I don't want anything to do with that, that… I had no idea. How could I be so…," no, even on his worst days the Malfoy heir was not going to belittle himself. "I had no idea…"

Blaise groaned: "Malfoy, you idiot! That's not the point. Well, the boy was pretty, even I didn't suspect that he was anything but a girl. But you know what is the point? The point is that you meet someone who you like very much, that you are obsessing for a year and then you just let them go? Come on!"

"Well, what did you want me to do then?" The blonde shouted.

"You want me to tell you about the birds and the bees?" Blaise quirked an eyebrow.

"It is not funny, you moron, I met a girl and I was attracted to a girl, not a boy," Draco explainined slowly as if talking to a small child.

The Italian just rolled his eyes: "a girl or a guy, who cares as long as they are pretty? Don't tell me you have never tried it with a boy?"

Now Draco was looking at Blaise as if he had grown a second head.

The other man snorted: "Honestly Draco, I don't be such a child. Sometimes sex is just sex. You from all the people should know it. If you want someone, then you do and such details as gender simply don't matter. You don't have to marry the guy, fuck and forget him! Don't mope around like a complete moron."

"Shut up Blaise, you don't know what you are talking about!"

"I am serious Draco. You should fuck the little girl-boy or you will never get him out of your system. I am tired of seeing you like this," Blaise poured himself another drink. "I know how it works, you want something badly until you get it, then you realize that your desire was spiked by the fact that the object was out of reach Simple like that."

"Oh, Blaise, you are a genius!" Draco mocked.

"If you say so, Drake," Blaise smiled. "But seriously, listen to me, think about it. Why do you have to forbid yourself something you want? You are a Malfoy, so act as one!"

Draco was silent for some time. He had to admit that Blaise was at least partially right. He had not been himself lately, he had forgotten who he was and it was all that little boy's fault. He had let someone mess with his mind and his life. He couldn't let anyone to make a fool of himself. He was going to get what he wanted and after that he would have some sweet revenge.

Draco Malfoy looked his best friend in the eye: "You are right Blaise. I was unreasonable."

Then the blonde smirked: "What was I thinking about?"

Blaise grinned: "You were thinking about a certain green-eyed boy in a drag, because it was the first time ever when you didn't get to fuck someone you wanted to. Simple like that, really. Don't beat yourself up because of that."

"I even thought I was in love," Draco smirked.

"You? In love? Come on!" Blaise laughed. "It was just physiology."

"I guess so," the blonde admitted. "So, no we just need to find the little drag queen for me. At least I know what I am looking for this time."

Blaise Zabini licked his lips looking at his best friend. Draco had just admitted that there was a chance he could sleep with another male. He didn't care that blondie was going to shag some stupid, little boy first, Blaise could wait. He had been waiting for very long time and he could wait a bit longer. Until now he had thought that there was no chance that Malfoy could be anything but one hundred percent straight.

If that little brat were there, Blaise would have kissed him on both cheeks. Blaise was so grateful and exited. The man was grinning like a fool when he watched Draco leaving the bedroom to look for his boy-toy.

Draco returned to the party. He strolled in the room confidently, completely ignoring everyone. He was looking for one particular person, someone who had the answers. Someone who had been lying to him.

Overall he felt much better. Like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Everything made much more sense now. Draco would have to thank Blaise for that somehow. He knew what the problem was and knew how to solve it. The only thing he had to do now was hunt down the object of his obsession.

The Malfoy heir was certain that he knew who to ask. This time he was not going to take 'no' for an answer. And there she was.

"Millicent," Draco looked down at the girl who was by a head shorter than him.

"Oh, hello, Draco," she smiled warmly, returning the greeting, not suspecting that this was not a social occasion.

The blonde didn't smile black; his expression was a void of any emotions. The young woman started feeling uncomfortable.

Draco scowled as if he had encountered something with terribly fowl smell: "I know that you lied to me, Millicent."

An audible gulp could be heard: "What do you mean, Draco?"

"Millicent, Millicent… have you lied to me more than once? I hope not. Now be a good girl and tell me who the boy I met a year ago was," Draco demanded. "I asked you once, but you lied to me."

The young woman averted her eyes: "I'm sorry, Draco… I didn't want to… I don't know, I just thought that it was better if you didn't know… I didn't think that you would be happy if you knew that he was a boy…" The girl blushed. It had been very obvious why Draco had been interested in Harry…

"But I think if there is something I want to know you should just tell me. I am a big boy, I can decide what to do with that kind of information myself. Don't you agree?" Draco's face still didn't show any emotions, only his eyes were gleaming with controlled anger.

"Cut it. I don't have time for this. I want to know his name."

"Draco…why?" Millicent whined. "Why do you want to know? Are you upset? Please don't do anything to hurt Harry! It was not his fault, believe me! Please leave him be!"

That earned her a very cold glare: "Since when do you think I am going to take orders from anybody? Especially you. Tell me what I want to know or I will forget that we have known each other since we were children and become very angry and that will not be pleasant."

Girl's eyes suddenly got large saucers: "Fine, Draco, fine…" she sighed. "His name is Harry. Harry Potter."

"Where can I find him?" Draco was cheering inwardly.

"I am not sure. He is a cousin of my boyfriend's best friend. His name is Dudley Dursley. Dudley goes to the same Uni as you. But Harry is not living with Dursleys anymore; I haven't seen him for almost a year. And Draco, he is a very sweet boy, please…"

"Thank you Milly," Draco cut her off. "It was not so hard after all."

He was still angry at the girl. However as far as he knew her, Millicent really hadn't meant him any harm by doing though. He had decided to leave her be.

So the boy's name was Harry Potter. The Malfoy heir had a feeling that he had heard the name somewhere… He dragged Blaise back to his room leaving the party behind. He was not in the mood anymore. When he inquired if Blaise have heard of 'Harry Potter', his friend's answer was negative.

At Draco's first idea had been to track down the cousin, but then the guy would know that Malfoy was looking for his cousin and who knows what kind of rumors that would start.

It made things more complicated, because at the moment Dudley Dursley (the silliest name Draco had ever heard) was the only one who knew something about Harry Potter. If he wouldn't find anything, he will have to find the guy.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title** : Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humor :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story. Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: NC15

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing.

Chapter Four 

Harry had insisted that he didn't want to ruin the party for everyone and he would go home by himself. Of course that was not going to happen, they didn't let him go alone. In the end it was Ron who called the taxi and took the boy home.

Ron had been very worried. Harry went to the toilet (that was what they had thought), and didn't come back for too long. But when he finally did, the boy was crying and refused to tell what had happened. The redhead was furious and threatened to beat up whoever had hurt his friend.

Harry persisted that he just wanted to go home. They didn't want to cause a scene. Ron gently guided the boy to the door and got him in the taxi.

"I am going with you, mate, don't even try," Ron joined his foster brother in the car, put a hand around his shoulder and pulled closer to his side.

Harry wrapped his arms around Ron's waist and buried his face in other boy's shirt still whimpering.

Ron gently ran his fingers through the incredibly soft hair: "Harry, what happened? Why are you like this? Tell me please! I can't help you, if I don't know what's wrong with you."

The boy sighed: "I am sorry, Ron. There is nothing you can do. You have done everything you could for me. You have done a lot already. Don't worry about me, I will be fine."

"Harry," Ron sounded desperate. "Something did happen. Did someone attack you? I have to know. What do you want me to think!" There were no obvious marks on the boy, but he had to make sure.

"No, Ron," Harry sighed. "No one attacked me. Someone might have said some things I was not happy to hear, but nothing more. These things – I don't want to repeat them, it hurts too much," he had decided to tell the other boy at least a half of the truth.

"Who, Harry? Who was it?" Ron asked angrily.

The taxi stopped.

"We are here," the driver announced.

Ron paid him and they went inside.

Harry turned to his friend: "Please, Ron, don't hold this against me and don't ask more questions. I will be fine, Ron, please," the boy wrapped his arms around other's shoulders and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you, thank you for everything, I am so happy that I have you," Harry stood on the tiptoe and pecked Ron's cheek and ran upstairs to his room, leaving a very dazed redhead behind.

The next morning Harry woke up feeling somewhat better than when he went to bed. Maybe, his eyes were still puffy and head slightly dizzy, but it was amendable with a hot shower. He decided not to think about anything yet. He would pretend that yesterday didn't happen.

Harry was angry with himself. He actually was such a girl sometimes or more often than sometimes. He certainly was crying like one. And blushing like one. And apparently he even looked like a girl and no one could tell the difference if he was wearing a woman's clothes.

Harry had to admit that he was even acting like girl. He never wanted to hit people like Ron did. Oh and Ron. Harry kissed his best friend on the cheek. Guys didn't kiss their friends like that.

Harry finished his shower and wrapped himself up in a white, fluffy towel. On his way out of the bathroom he bumped into someone.

"Oh, morning, Ron," he grinned.

Ron almost forgot to close his mouth. Harry was standing there in front of him, the lithe body covered only with a towel, smelling like water, soap and fruity shampoo, his hair was wet and still dripping.

Gorgeous. Nothing else came on Ron's mind.

"You're, Ok?" Harry asked still smiling.

"Yeah…" Ron managed to gather his wits. "I just… I need a shower!"

Harry returned to his room. He hadn't even noticed anything strange about his friend.

Harry reluctantly got off the bus. It had been about a week, since the Halloween party and until now he had not seen Draco Malfoy. The boy was certain that his luck couldn't last and he will run into the blonde any day now. It filled Harry with anticipation and fear in the same time.

The boy sighed – he was a mess and only because he had fallen in love. Oh, that was quite certain, he was in love. When the boy tried to rationalize it, he knew that it was silly.

Yes, Draco Malfoy was very handsome… But! Harry didn't want to admit that he was feeling that much for someone just because they were good looking. And what else did he know about the blonde man? He didn't even know anything important about him. How can he be in love?

Besides Draco had made it quite clear than he despised Harry and didn't want to see him. It made boys heart ache.

But what could he do? Love had obviously nothing to do with rationality. There was the pull. Something made him weak in the knees and dizzy when he saw the blonde.

"Hey, Mate," Ron put his arm around Harry's shoulder. "A penny for your thoughts."

The boy smiled: "Nah, they are not worth your penny."

"Sure they are, I would have offered more, but, well, that's about what I can afford…"

"Oh, don't worry, a penny is a lot of money for me," Harry giggled.

"At least I know that you are not living with me because of money," Ron joked.

"No, your Mom's cooking might be the reason…"

Hermione was watching her two friends. Harry was oblivious, same as he was oblivious to a lot of things. He was living in his own world. The girl suspected it was because of his previous life. She shuddered remembering what she had heard about boy's family. No wonder that Harry shut himself off the outside world.

Yes, Harry was oblivious, because he was used to not noticing things. Still, Hermione wondered if Ron realized that he was flirting with the dark-hired boy.

She saw Ron looking after Harry as the boy was walking to his lectures.

Hermione had to admit that the boy looked ridiculous. His clothes, glasses and baseball caps were completely concealing the beauty Harry actually was. After she had seen the boy without it all, the girl knew what Ron saw in him. If there was a bisexual bone in a guy's body then the boy could bring it out.

She found it quite amusing actually. Hermione hadn't suspected that Ron was not completely straight. But she was still worried, those kind of feelings could make things complicated between friend, especially if one sided.

Harry was sitting under the tree and doing some sketches. He was alone, because everyone else had lectures. But not for long.

"Potter," Harry shuddered. There was a voice he never wanted to hear again. The dark-hired boy lifted his head and saw Dudley Dursley.

"Not happy to see your cousin, freak?" He nudged Harry with his foot and the boy sprang to his feet, but didn't say anything.

"That's Ok," Dudley sneered. "I don't like seeing you too. All the time I must worry that someone here will find out that we are related. Of course you had to come to the same university as me."

Harry still remained silent. What would he say? Apologize for existing? As if Dudley cared what he had to say anyway. Sometimes Harry wondered why his family hated him so much… He had never done anything to them, he simply existed. He was waiting patiently to hear what the older boy had to say.

"You remember that you own me Potter? Don't you? You should know that I can tell Malfoy how much you like him and I can tell all your little friends and everyone who will listen what kind of little, disgusting fag are you," Dudley gloated.

Harry decided that from his cousin's mouth it really sounded disgusting.

"What do you want from me," the boy asked in a voice which was barely louder than a whisper.

"You are lucky. I just need a small favor. One of my mates wants to give his girlfriend his portrait and you are such a great artist," Dudley drawled sardonically. "So that is what you will do. Go, meet my friend and draw him, here is the address," he pulled a slip of paper out of the pocket and handed it Harry.

"I want you there on Friday, at six o'clock in the evening, see you around freak or better not," with that Dudley left wearing an ugly smile on his face.

Nor Draco, nor Blaise had been successful with tracking down the boy whose name was Harry Potter. It made the blonde extremely irritated, since he was not used to waiting patiently. If he had something on his mind, he wanted it right away.

Finally they decided that there was no other way to find the boy – they had to ask Dudley Dursley. Luckily it was quite easy to find out who 'the cousin' was. The guy was some kind of sportsman and people knew him. In the end Blaise managed to find out which was Dursley's car.

Draco decided to wait for him there. When Blaise wanted to come with his best friend, he refused. Draco was Malfoy and he hated to appear weak. He insisted that he was not a girl who needs someone to go with her everywhere all the time.

It was not the first time. Draco was too independent for Blaise's liking. Sometimes he simply liked to show Blaise that he didn't needed him. The Malfoy heir liked to let people know that they were not needed. Draco Malfoy didn't need anyone.

It actually pissed Blaise off badly. He had been Draco's best friend since the high school; he had invested a lot of time in their relationship and had become Draco's closest friend.

But how close that actually was? Not enough. And when suddenly one day the blondie decided that sleeping with a guy was not below him, he picked some little, stupid boy! Of course Blaise was quite upset. But unlike Draco, he had a lot of patience.

Draco was leaning against the car which supposedly belonged to the Dursley guy. It was not a bad car, a Peugeot. Of course about ten times to cheep for Draco's taste… He decided that it would be better if he waited for the guy in the parking lot, since there would be less people.

And there he was coming – Dudley Dursley. Draco thought the guy's name was ridiculous.

It turned out there was no similarity between too cousins. The guy was blonde, muscular and plain. Draco shrugged; he didn't like people who were so ordinary. A bum who was living on the street had more worth in his eyes than someone as plain as Dursley.

Very clean, very common, no style, no class, no personality, no story. Nothing behind the plain blue eyes.

Dudley was very impressed. There was Draco Malfoy standing by his car and it looked like the man was waiting for him. Dudley had no idea what Malfoy wanted, but if the most popular and richest guy around wanted to talk to him – it couldn't be bad.

"Hello, Malfoy," Dudley spoke up first. "How can I help you?"

"I think you could," Draco smiled politely. "Have we met before?"

"Yes!" Dudley was ecstatic. "A year ago at the Halloween party. Millicent introduced us. My best friend is her boyfriend."

"Oh, of course, I remember now," the blonde kept smiling and looking interested. "But actually I came here to talk to you about something."

"Sure!" Dudley grinned. "I will help you if I'll be able to."

"Nice. I was told that you have a cousin whose name is Harry Potter," Draco tested the waters.

"Shit," Dudley groaned. "You know how it is, one can't choose their family. He is the part of family I am not proud of."

"I can understand that," Draco decided to play along. The guy obviously didn't like his cousin much.

"Yeah, Potter is a little freak. We had to live with him for sixteen years just because his parents got drunk and died in a car crush. Father finally got rid of him a couple of months ago. Dad says if he got enough money to go to a college then he can live on his own."

Draco didn't like this: "So you don't know where Potter is now?"

"Why do you want to know?" It was plain curiosity.

"He made me angry," Draco tried to improvise. "I discovered some people came to my party uninvited. I am investigating this accident. I may sound difficult, but I don't appreciate such things happening. I don't like when people don't follow my orders and someone had obviously done that. Besides I don't like the idea of wrong kind of people entering my house."

Draco naturally implied that Dursley was the right kind. And it pleased the other boy: "Of course! Oh, but I know where the freak is. Actually he is studying here, in this University, just don't tell anyone."

Draco nodded and Dudley continued. "But right now he is very busy," the guy looked smug. "I will tell you the story, I can bet you gonna like it. I went to a party last week. It was a great party with cool people. We were talking and there was this one guy who told me that he liked fucking girls and boy's the same and especially virgins. I told him that I was one hundred percent sure that my cousin was a virgin and he was just begging for it if you know what I mean. And Potter is stupid sometimes. I told him that my friend wants him to draw his portrait," Dudley had a gall to laugh. Then he looked at his watch. "In about fifteen minutes he will be 'drawing' a very fine portrait."

Draco couldn't believe his ears. He was never considered himself a nice person, but this… it was just disgusting and they were cousins.

Malfoy was faster than one would believe; he grabbed the other man by his neck and threw him forcefully against the bonnet of his car: "Are you sick or crazy? What you just told me is disgusting; any normal person would tell you that! And you boast about it?"

Draco really didn't want to hear the answer, he pressed the now struggling man harder against the car: "Now you will give me the address and pray that your cousin is all right and be grateful that I don't call the police."

Draco had been very convincing. He got the address and very soon he was speeding towards North London.

He would have done the same thing he was doing right now for everyone. There were some things he hated, some things no one deserved. It had nothing to do with the fact that he had wanted to sleep with the boy. Of course a thought had flashed in his mind – how was he different? Simple, really, he had wanted to seduce the boy, not rape him.

It was not long until Draco had found the right address and was knocking on the door angrily. It took some time to get someone there.

A tall, lanky guy opened the door. Draco noticed that his shirt was half way open and he was obviously angry at being interrupted: "What do you want, I am busy."

The blonde unceremoniously pushed past the guy: "I came to pick up Harry Potter, dark hair, green eyes… where is he?"

"Hey, listen," the guy was about to protest.

"It is me or the police," Draco spat. That moment he heard sound coming from somewhere upstairs, someone was banging on the door and begging to let them out. Draco didn't even look at the guy; if he did he would have killed him. He ran upstairs and unlocked the door.

When he opened the door he saw the boy sitting next to it. Harry's hair was disheveled, glasses were lying broken on the floor, the shirt was torn open and he was only in his boxers and socks. Besides one of his cheeks was bruised and streaked with tears.

"Damn it," Draco swore and kneeled down. The boy cringed back.

"Shh, don't be scared," the blonde tried to speak gently. "I came to get you out of here, Ok? We are leaving, come."

Draco reached out for the boy.

"I don't see well," Harry whimpered. "My glasses…"

"Broken," Draco announced.

That moment the guy entered the room: "Who do you think you are! I paid for him!"

The dark hired boy cringed back in fear. Draco decided to get out of there as fast as possible. He went to the small boy and swiftly picked him up in a bridal style.

"You don't realize in how much shit you are?" Draco spat furiously. "What you think, you bought, was not for sale? I make one call and you…" the blonde didn't finish the threat. He glared at the guy and dared him to try anything to stop them. He obviously decided that it was not worth it.

Draco carried the boy downstairs and outside and tucked him in his car. Draco took off his jacket and wrapped it around Harry's shoulders.

He himself climbed in the driver's seat.

The boy next to him was sniffing loudly.

Now Draco had no idea what to do.

"What did he do to you?" Even if he was quite sure that it hadn't gone too far, Draco decided that he wanted to make sure.

"He…he… tried to …to take off my clothes, I didn't let and… and, he hit me," the boy sobbed.

"Do you want me to take you somewhere?" Draco asked.

The boy let out one more sob: "I don't know. If I come home like this… they will know everything…"

"Hey, look at me," Draco ordered. When the boy didn't Draco reached out, put his hands under Harry's chin and turned his had so he could look the boy n the face: "You know it was not your fault?" No, the boy looked so sad and desperate. He definitely didn't know. Harry tried to avert his gaze. Draco tightened his grip and didn't let him.

"It was not your fault, Ok," the blonde stated. "You were not asking for it or whatever silly thoughts are there in your little, pretty head."

Then Draco started his car.

So this was the Harry Potter. Without make up at least. Draco was surprised. He was shocked. The boy had worked in his garden for several months. He had met the boy, but hadn't recognized him. If Harry Potter were still wearing all those rugs and the ugly glasses he probably still hadn't. It surprised Draco that it was so hard to see behind a disguise which was so simple.

Draco glanced sidewards. The boy was still sniffing and looking out of the window. He was so petite, so delicate and vulnerable. Completely immersed in his own thoughts.

Draco decided what to do then.

Draco finally stopped his car in front of an apartment house. He walked around the car and opened the door. Harry was looking nowhere in particular, he looked utterly lost.

Without a word Draco unbuckled the seatbelt and picked the boy up in his arms. There was a valid reason – Harry Potter was not wearing any shoes. And the fact that having the little thing in his arms so light and pliant, made him feel strangely good didn't have anything to do with it.

Draco walked past the doorkeeper who discreetly ignored him. Draco sometimes used the flat in this house, so the man knew how not to look too interested in who the young Malfoy was bringing with him.

He entered the lift and pressed the button. Draco looked at the boy. The young man was hiding his face, pressing it against Draco's chest. The boy obviously was feeling ashamed.

Draco put the boy on the floor in the front of his apartment to unlock the door. Then he picked the boy up again and carried him inside and put him on the couch in the sitting room. Then he went in the one of bedrooms, took a soft comforter and brought it back in the room. He tucked the blanket around Harry and made him lie down.

"Who should I let know that you are fine?"

"Weasleys," Harry murmured and told him the address; he didn't remember any phone numbers and his cell had been left in that house with his shoes and other things.

Draco went to the kitchen and put on some hot water for tea. Then he pulled out the phone and called his house. They had several security men all the time around the mansion and the only son and heir had those running errands for him very often. He ordered them to go to that prick who had tried to hurt Harry and retrieve boy's belongings and then visit whoever the Weasleys were and inform them that Harry was safe only not going to be home that night.

Then Draco finished making the tea and went back into the living room. Harry was lying on the sofa; he hadn't moved by an inch from his position on the sofa and was looking at the opposite wall with unseeing eyes.

Draco set the mug on the coffee table, sat next to the boy on the couch and pulled him up by his shoulders Then Draco handed the boy the tea.

"Here, drink it," he beckoned. Harry obediently emptied the mug.

Draco put the empty mug on the table and looked at the boy who was sitting next to him. Harry turned his head and green eyes met grey. Teenager's lower lip trembled and mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

Draco lifted his hand and brushed a wayward strand of hair out of Harry's eyes: "What?" the blonde asked gently a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth; he just couldn't stay indifferent to all the cuteness.

A single tear escaped and ran down boy's cheek.

"Shh, none of that," Draco whispered and pressed his lips to Harry's jaw were the teardrop has stopped tenderly kissing away the wetness.

In return Harry simply yawned.

"You are tired," Draco stated and in no time Harry was in his arms and carried to one of the bedrooms. The older male put him on the bed then rummaged through the closets and pulled out a pyjamas and handed it to his houseguest. Draco left the room and returned dressed in an identical pair as Harry only it fitted him better than the smaller boy who looked like a child wearing his father's clothes.

Draco pulled back the covers and made the boy lie down. Draco appeared to be thinking about something for a moment, and then he reached out and gently cupped Harry's cheek with his hand.

"I am sorry for the last time," he said gently caressing the soft skin. "Harry…" Draco said the name as if tasting it.

Boy's lips twitched and Draco was presented with a small smile.

Then the suddenly the blonde climbed in the bed and lied down next to Harry. The boy looked startled for a moment. Draco put his arm around boy's small waist and pulled him closer.

"Don't worry. Sleep," Draco ordered. "I am so glad that I found you. Now I am never letting you go."

When Draco opened eyes, his companion was still sleeping. Peaceful and sweet like a child. The boy had ended up pressed to Draco's chest. He couldn't help smiling. He was not sure what had happened, but this was so good, so right. He had never felt so calm and content. It was like he had found something he had been looking for all along.

His hand glided down boy's spine.

Draco took a deep breath. Harry Potter even smelt right. The blonde was already forgetting what the problem with him being a boy was. Honestly, why had he cared so much? This was perfect; this was how it should be. Draco was smiling softly, he was happy.

The body next to him started shifting. Draco pulled back and let now awake Harry to lie on his back. Draco looked at the boy and smiled kindly: "How are you feeling?"

Harry looked confused and unsure. Draco leaned over the boy and pecked him on the tip of his nose.

Harry really didn't know what to think about everything. It had been like a dream. He had gone to that house to draw the portrait. The guy had let him inside and took to his room and then just told him to undress. Harry had been shocked and refused and had wanted to leave. Then the guy had told him that he was going to get what he had paid for and attacked him. Harry had been fighting back and the guy had slapped him across the cheek.

Harry reached up to feel the bruise; the skin was still tender there.

Draco saw it and his expression darkened.

"I think I should order some breakfast first," Draco sat up and reached for his cell phone.

Blaise had called him several times; honestly, the guy was stalking him sometimes. Draco found the right number and ordered the food.

Harry was also in a sitting position now. "Isn't it easier to cook something?" The boy asked genuinely curious.

"I have no idea," Draco shrugged. "I have never cooked anything."

"Oh," the boy looked confused.

Draco chuckled: "I am awfully spoiled, I guess."

But Harry appeared to be deep in thought and somewhat serious.

"Why am I here," asked Harry, his eyes cast on his lap where he was toying with the hem of his pajamas.

Draco sat on the edge of the bed and placed his palms on the both sides of boy's face lifting it up, so Draco could look in the green eyes.

"You are here, because I want you here. With me," Draco was leaning down and bringing his face closer and closer to Harry's. "I meant it yesterday. I am sorry for what I said on Halloween. I was… well it doesn't matter, really. What matters is that you are here with me."

With that the blonde captured boy's lower lip between his and sucked on it gently, then switched his attention to the upper one, finally Draco's tongue swept all over the small mouth and asked for an entrance. There was no resistance and Draco was thrilled when Harry shyly started mimicking Draco's actions with his tongue, returning the kiss.

Draco's hands had glided down to Harry's waist and were sneaking below the silk pajamas. However before things got out of hand the doorbell rang.

The blonde reluctantly pulled back sighing deeply: "Must be the food."

Five minutes later they were already sitting by the kitchen table and eating their breakfast and drinking coffee.

Then Harry suddenly paled ad dropped his fork on the table: "Oh, God…" the boy whispered worriedly.

"What's the matter," Draco inquired.

"The Weasleys!" The boy sounded upset. "They don't know where I am and what I am doing! They must be worried sick!"

"Don't worry about that, I got some people to warn them," he stated.

"No, that is not enough, they will still worry," Harry insisted.

"Why?" Draco usually didn't inform his parents about such things as his wherabouts at all.

"I always sleep at home," a blush crept on his cheeks.

Draco smirked at implication. However there were other things he didn't understand: "Who are the Weasleys? Are they your relatives?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "They are just people I live with, friends."

"Why do you live with those people?"

"Because…" Harry's voice faltered. "Because my family, they…they kicked me out," he looked embarrassed.

Draco decided that there had to be a reason: "For what?"

"I am not sure," the boy looked sad. "Maybe because I decided to go to College or because they just hated me," he shrugged.

"How can anyone hate you?"

Harry was blushing like mad: "They always had. My parents died and they kept me just because they didn't want to look bad."

Draco looked angry: "That cousin of yours… I still haven't decided what should I do to him…"

They sat silent for a moment, then Harry finally spoke up: "I didn't know he hated me **that** much." Suddenly he thought about something else bothering him. "Draco," Harry started. "Why do you want me here? I mean, I am nothing and no one and…"

The boy looked as if he was going to cry again. But he was silenced with a peck on lips as Draco leaned across the table.

"You are a cry-baby, aren't you?" Draco gave a laugh trying to lighten their moods. "And you are everything," he looked at the boy as if he really was. "I felt it the first time I met you a year ago."

He laughed mirthlessly: "You can't imagine what was this year like for me… I was going crazy, I couldn't think about anything else, but you and then when I finally found you again… well, I was acting like an idiot. You know how simple everything is? I fell in love with you at the first sight and. That's it…"

"Come!" He went to the Harry and picked him up in his arms making the boy yelp in surprise. "Now we are going to spend the day lazing on the sofa watching Tv."

Some time later Malfoys' security guys came and brought Harry's missing clothes which were all retrieved from where they were left. The boy was horrified. He had about ten unanswered calls and messages from Ron.

He looked at Draco guiltily: "See, they were worried! What is going to happen when I tell them? Will they understand?"

Draco frowned: "Who knows? I have no idea; I don't know your family."

Harry was contemplative for a moment and then he looked at the older man looking ashamed: "Would it be Ok, if I don't tell them yet that we are…well, you know…"

"Dating? Together?" Draco smirked. "It will be fine. Maybe even better for now."

They didn't discuss it directly, but this thing they had together was something so special and private that they both wanted to keep it between themselves for some time. What they could feel was a pure magic and it was as if they were afraid that it would break if they exposed it to the world.

Harry smiled gratefully. Draco leaned down and gave the dark-haired beauty and kissed him thoroughly. Finally he pulled away. He hadn't had enough. He didn't believe he would have enough anytime soon, but he had to give Harry a ride home. Draco was reluctant to give away what he had decided was his.

The blonde looked down at the boy who hardly reached his chin. He was beautiful even if he was not dressed as a girl. Like a doll, petite and sweet. The only thing Draco disliked was those awful oversized clothes the boy was wearing. He was used to beautiful and expensive things. However this time he dismissed the thought – he was in love with a person, not with their outfits.

When Harry opened the door to the Weasleys' house, Molly dropped the bowl she was holding.

"Harry!" The woman cried out and rushed to his side. "Harry, where did you spent the night? What happened?" She ran hands over boy's body in a motherly concern, to make sure that he was not injured.

"I am fine, Mrs. Weasley," Harry smiled unconfidently, he was feeling terribly guilty.

Then another Weasley joined them in the kitchen.

"Harry! Where the hell were you?" Worry and anger were mixed in Ron's voice as he hugged the other boy.

"It is a long story," the boy answered, trying to figure out what to tell them.

"Let Harry sit down, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley commanded.

Harry sat down on one of the tattered chairs. They were both looking at him expectantly.

"Your cheek!" Ron reached out and made the boy turn his face. "You have a bruise! Who did it?" The redhead was already fuming. His friend's temper sometimes scared Harry.

"I was attacked," the boy admitted. He didn't want to lie people who had been so kind to him. "But it is fine! It's Ok, the person didn't harm me more then this, just slapped me over the face, that's it. And then someone stopped him. I guess I was in a bit of shock, so the guy took me to his house and I fell asleep…"

"What guy? Who attacked you? Why didn't you call the police?" Ron was sprouting one question after another.

"The guy… he… he run away and I didn't want trouble," Harry shuddered remembering what had happened.

"And who was the guy who saved you," Ron looked suspicious for some reason.

"He was just a man who saw what happened and helped me, nothing to it," Harry hated being dishonest, but for some reason couldn't bring himself to tell them the truth. "Ron, Molly, could we, just forget about it, it was… not something I want to talk about it?"

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled at the boy reassuringly.

"But Harry…" Ron was bout to say something, but his mother interrupted him.

"Don't pester him, Ron," she ordered. "Harry is fine, that is the most important."

Harry enforced Molly's order giving the other boy a pleading look and Ron let it slip. He was happy that Harry was home and safe.

After giving Harry a ride Draco returned to the Mansion. He didn't want to go back to the apartment alone. He couldn't believe it. He was in love. Or it was more like a mental illness, he was like a junky high on Harry Potter.

When Draco climbed up the stairs and opened the door to his room he stopped. a wave of annoyance washed through his body.

"Zabini," Draco greeted, grimacing at the Italian who was lounging on his sofa. "What do you need."

The Italian gave his friend a toothy grin: "I don't need anything, but you need to got laid, you are way to cranky."

"And you need a therapist," Draco smirked.

Blaise narrowed his eyes: "Where were you, Draco? Why weren't you answering my calls? I was starting to worry."

"Oh, forgive me, mother," the blonde mocked.

"No really," Blaise insisted. "You just vanish for a day and what do you want me to think?"

"I have a life," Draco stated.

"Oh, really," Blaise stood up with arms crossed over his chest. "Answering a phone call will not end your life."

Draco looked at his friend who appeared truly concerned and sighed: "Things came up. Sorry."

The other man gaped. Draco never apologized and what did he mean? What things came up?

"What were you doing Draco?"

"It is only my own business," Draco stated nonchalantly.

"Ah, of course. Something important happened!" Blaise's tone was unnecessarily accusing. "I can see it written all over your face! I can smell it! Tell me Draco! Who did you meet?"

Draco was slightly put off by the scene. Blaise was acting like a jealous girlfriend. The blonde decided not to pay attention. Zabini had his moments.

He took off his shirt and headed to the bathroom: "I am going to take a shower."

When Draco closed the door Blaise stared at it angrily. He hated to be ignored. Besides something was wrong with Malfoy. He could feel it – something had changed and Blaise didn't like it one bit. It was as if Draco was slipping away, out of his grip.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title** : Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humor :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story. Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: NC15

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing.

Chapter Five 

As Draco came out of the shower, he was refreshed and somewhat relieved that Blaise was not there anymore. Honestly, he was not sure what had crawled up the blonde's ass and died there, but it was developing a foul smell.

Besides Draco needed some space to think things over. The last two day had been a bit much to take in. There was something surreal about everything what had happened.

About a week ago Draco had found out that his love from the first sight and long time obsession was not a woman at all. Then he had thrown her… no, him, out without a second thought.

About half an hour later under a heavy influence of his best friend, Draco had accepted the fact that this one time he **might** be attracted to a guy. Maybe. And it certainly was an exception. A phase – something he had to get over. Preferably by hurting the person who had offended Draco so greatly by making him to fall in love with them.

Then a week later Draco had gotten too impatient to be subtle and went straight to the boy's buffoon of a cousin. Furthermore – hearing about that poor excuse's of a human being plans for Harry he, the man, who had inherited his composure from several generations of Malfoys, had went crazy and almost killed the guy and rushed away to play a knight in a shining armour, or something like that. It was not his role. That was one thing Draco was sure about.

It was against the Malfoy philosophy – if someone was not strong enough to take care of themselves, well, bad for them. The stronger survives. The weak are not worthy.

Harry Potter was apparently not someone who could fend for himself. The boy seemed to be so young and naïve, so innocent. It was as if he was asking someone to take advantage of him, to hurt him, use him. Or to take him in one's arms and hide away from all the trouble, all the evil and dirt in the world.

Usually Draco would have considered himself to belong to the first category. Not this time though. It was like the boy's presence mad him forget who he was. It surely made him act very much out of character.

It was ridiculous.

The possessiveness Draco had felt, when he had found out that someone was going to claim something he considered his, was the feeling he could understand. The protectiveness was slightly harder to accept. The tenderness, gentleness and unselfishness simply baffled him.

It was something new for the Malfoy heir.

The boy had been totally in his power, so vulnerable, in his flat, in bed with him… and what had Draco done? Kissed him and stopped there.

Maybe if he had remembered Blaise's advice and just taken what he wanted… maybe it had been all over already and much simpler for him?

He had known that with a bit of persuasion he could had gotten anything, everything he wanted from little Harry. But for some reason Draco hadn't used the opportunity to get what he wanted. He hadn't even thought about it… and what exactly he wanted?

It was like the presence of the boy turned Draco's brain in some mush and caused a temporarily amnesia and behavioural disorders.

Draco had some things to mull over. Some things he found disturbing and confusing.

Still – over everything, he couldn't wait until he saw the boy, who's painfully plain name was Harry Potter, again.

On the Sunday morning Harry had came to the Malfoy manor early. With everything what had happened, he had missed his work a day before on Saturday and even if Draco had claimed that he had taken care of it, there was still much to be done and it was his job. Dursleys had never accepted any excuses, if something had to be done, it had to be done – his aunt and uncle didn't care that he was not feeling well or had an important test at school next day.

Harry was used to doing what he was ordered to do without any excuses.

As he was trimming an exotic citrus plant in the winter garden, Harry felt like things that had happened a day before was a slightly surreal dream.

Draco Malfoy saving him, spending time with him, touching him, kissing him… the kissing part made Harry's cheeks go hot and something in his stomach twist, but in a good, exciting kind of way. He just hadn't had a lot of experience with kissing, or rather no experience at all… until Draco.

It had been so… so good, so nice that no wonder that the boy had to wonder if it had been true. Or if Draco hadn't changed his mind about being with him. Was it possible that someone like Draco wanted someone like Harry, like the real Harry, the one who was not dressed as a girl.

Harry almost cut off half of the plant he was working on when two strong arms encircled his small waist from behind and pulled the boy flush against a broad chest.

"Did you miss me?" Draco's voice was so low and husky that it sent shiver down Harry's spine and made him weak in knees.

"You… you scared me," Harry exhaled loudly.

"Did I? It was meant more as a surprise," while Draco talked his hands didn't stay idle, but took away Harry's gardening scissors and turned him around to face the blonde.

"Now, how about saying me a proper 'good morning'?" Draco proposed.

"A proper good morning," Harry complied with the request, pretending to take it literally.

Draco's lips quirked: "Oh, and you thought that you will get off this cheep? I think I will have to show you what a proper 'good morning' is now."

First Draco kissed the boy on the tip of his nose, then on one of his brows, after on one of his cheek bones and after that let his lips brush against Harry's jaw line and finally without much warning the older man claimed his lips, kissing him so fervently as if they hadn't seen each other for months.

Some time later Harry managed to talk Draco into leaving him alone for a bit, because he was a gardener after all and had to do his work. The blonde had not liked it, but since he also had work to do, he had backed off extracting a promise to be allowed to take Harry home later.

Draco went up to his room and put his laptop on the table by the window. He kept working on his assignment and glancing out of the window every ten minutes, keeping an eye on his… well it was not determined who exactly Harry was for him. Anyway, Draco was watching how the small boy wearing the ugliest clothes one had ever seen was tending his mother's garden.

Sometimes he wondered why Narcissa called it her garden if she entered it maybe once in a month. At the moment Mrs. Malfoy was visiting some friends in France, Draco was not even sure in which part of it.

But it was fine. He was used to being on his own, that had happened long time ago. Sometimes he wondered about Narcissa though. She didn't know anything about her son, but still claimed that she loved Draco so much and thought that she knew what he was thinking.

The funny thing was that the woman still thought that he was going to marry Pansy Parkinson one day. Probably after finishing his studies. She would be the last person he would ever marry, Draco thought watching his soon to be lover coming out of the winter garden.

Draco opened the door for Harry and let him in the car. The dark-hired boy found it a bit strange, since no one had ever opened the door for him.

He looked at the aristocratic blonde in the seat next to him. Draco was so… so different from him they were like day and night. Draco was so confident and strong, rich and beautiful and smart. Harry felt so inferior; he still couldn't get his mind around the fact that this man wanted to be with him.

Draco caught Harry watching him and the boy blushed and turned away. Draco found it amusing the way the boy glanced at him sideways, shyly under his long lashes. The blonde smirked and pulled the car to the side of the street and slid back with his seat. Then he unbuckled his own and Harry's seat belts.

"Come here," he motioned the boy.

Harry looked confused. Draco's smirk widened and he pulled Harry over his lap which made boy's eyes widen and he held with his small hands on Draco's shoulders as if he was afraid to fall of the lap he was straddling.

Draco reached out, stroke younger man's cheek affectionately, then took off the ridiculous baseball cap freeing the wonderful longish hair which now reached well past the boy's shoulders. Then he unhooked the bottle-bottom glasses from under Harry's ears and put them away. He wanted to see the eyes he knew were in the most amazing shade of green.

Draco smiled and let his hands sneak under Harry's hoodie and T-shirt to brush against his bare back over his waist band. Draco knew that his fingers were colder than the flesh there; he heard Harry's breathing hitch when the contact was made. Draco let his hands slide up and down, his thumbs brushing against boy's flat stomach.

Harry's expression changed, he bit his lip and his breathing got heavier.

"Now," Draco breathed out. "I would very much like you to kiss me."

And Harry did. At first tentatively pressing his lips against other man's, not sure how to go about it since until now Draco had been the one who initiated their snogging, then he tried to be bolder and let him tongue dart out and try to breach Draco's lips.

Harry was doing all right, but the blonde had enough of holding back – he pulled the boy closer and easily dominated the kiss, even from his position. Harry was so submissive, it thrilled Draco to know how much power he had over the boy, he knew that if he only wanted, he could do with the little thing as he pleased.

Harry yelped a bit when he felt something pushing against his bum. He was not **that** innocent… but still, knowing that Draco was aroused like this because of him and feeling it was somewhat embarrassing. Harry squirmed and Draco groaned. More friction was not something he needed at the moment.

The blonde pulled their lips apart and buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, taking several deep breaths to regain some of his composure, inhaling the scent which was only Harry, his body, no expensive perfume or designer shampoo, only cleanness and purity. Draco had to restrain himself not to attack the boy's neck with his lips and teeth which could have led to other things, things Harry was not ready for. Draco didn't have to ask to know that the boy was a virgin and a car, no matter how nice, was not the right place for the first time.

"Now I will take you home," the blonde finally announced, releasing the boy from his grip.

"Hello, Harry!" Ron greeted cheerfully looking up from his mashed potatoes. "You are late. Come here, eat something. We already started. Those Malfoy's make you work like a slave, don't they?"

"It's, Ok, Ron," Harry smiled. "The salary is good and they have a nice garden. Besides I did the same for the Dursleys. Now I am being paid at least"

Ron put his fork on the table with a loud bang: "Don't even mention those people to me, Harry! The way they treated you was completely… that was a child abuse! They should be arrested for it!"

"They just didn't like me," Harry hung his head. "No one can make others to love them by force," his voice was barely above a whisper. Dursley's were not his favourite subject.

"Don't you try to justify what they did to you," Mrs. Weasley joined the conversation while piling food on boy's plate. "They threw a child out on the street in the middle of night! Who knows what could have happened… And look at you! You are seventeen, but look like fourteen! Like they didn't feed you at all! They neglected you Harry, dear… Now eat," with that the woman went outside muttering something about the laundry she had to take in leaving both boys alone.

Harry hung his head in shame.

While rumoured to be insensitive, Ron took an instant notice of that. He stood up from his chair and went to Harry. The tall boy easily turned Harry with his chair away from the table to face him and kneeled down in front of him.

"Hey, listen to me," Ron tried to look in boy's eyes. "Don't be like that. You look like a kicked puppy… you have nothing to be ashamed of Harry. Not you. They should be ashamed. You are a wonderful person, you have a good heart and your drawings are just amazing… you just don't realize how amazing you are."

Harry looked up, his eyes rimmed with tears. His and Ron's eyes were on the same level; Harry noticed that Ron's eyes were blue, pure, baby blue. He took of the glasses and wiped his eyes with one of his sleeves.

"Harry," Ron felt as if he was drowning in the emerald green pools. "Remember that we love you…" the redhead leaned closer, reducing the distance between them bit by bit, his heart was thumping loudly, Ron licked his lips…

The kitchen door opened with a creak: "Heya! What's for the dinner?"

Mr. Weasley had returned home.

Harry put his glasses back on and beamed at his best friend.

"Thank you, Ron," he mouthed and returned to his food.

Ron sat down on his chair and gripped his fork tightly, to stop his hand for trembling. It had been an impulse, something he had not planned, but Ron Weasley knew what he had almost done…

After finishing the meal Ron bid everyone goodnight and took a refuge in his room. He thanked all the gods that Harry was still oblivious to everything. But Ron couldn't feign innocence anymore. He couldn't lie to himself… he had feelings towards his best friend. It was terrible, unnatural… if Harry knew he would be disgusted. Ron threw the t-shirt he hat taken off over the room forcefully and fell on his bed burying his face in the pillow and groaned.

Hermione was watching his friends with amusement. Seamus and Dean were looking at all the passing girls and giving them marks from one to ten. She had to roll her eyes seeing such immaturity and she was already considering giving them a lecture about respecting a woman.

Padma, Parvati and Lavender were immersed in some fancy magazine, discussing the Backhams and the new trends and planning a trip to the High Street.

Neville was studying a book with colourful pictures of all kinds of plants. Hermione approved of the boy - he was very dedicated.

Luna Lovegood and Harry were both discussing an assignment in art history.

Ron Weasley… well, Ron was pretending to read something, but if one paid attention it was obvious that he was watching Harry. The situation was getting more and more serious. She was thinking about talking to the boy, Ron of course. But was not sure if interfering was a good idea. But if he could goad the redhead into talking to Harry at least…

"Hey, look," Lavender suddenly exclaimed. "Draco Malfoy…" Hermione was ready to bet that she had seen stars in her eyes for a moment.

"He is so hot!" Padma giggled.

"Hot?" Seamus snorted. "That arrogant prick? It is obvious that he thinks that he is so much better than us – mortals."

"Well, that is a part of his sex-appeal," Lavender smirked.

That moment Harry choked on water he was drinking.

Seamus patted the boy on his back: "Easy mate… shut up Brown, you are disturbing poor Harry here."

"Do you think that Draco Malfoy is sexy, Harry?" Luna asked nibbling on a cookie.

"What kind of question is that?" The one who looked the most disturbed was Ron whose was as red as a beet.

Harry was also blushing furiously to the tips of his ears, Hermione was not sure if it was because of swallowing his water the wrong way or embarrassment. Did it meant that Harry considered boys… Interesting…

Hermione looked at Draco Malfoy. What surprised her was the fact that the blonde was looking right over the yard at them. Not at Hermione or Lavender or Parvati or Padma. Man's eyes were focused on the spot where Luna and Harry were sitting.

Hermione frowned. Malfoy looked away; one of the guys he was hanging out with was saying something. But the girl was sure; she had not made a mistake. Malfoy had been looking. Maybe it had been accidental? Somehow she didn't believe it. There had been something in Malfoy's eyes, something about the way he was looking, something too interested to be accidental…

She had no idea what to make of it. Malfoy didn't even know any of them, right?

Damn, paranoia, the girl shook her head. She was always watching people, noticing things and sometimes reading too much in them. Why would Draco Malfoy look with interest at Luna Lovegood? Or Harry. Luna, well, Luna was a strange bird and people sometimes looked at her, because she was wearing vegetable shaped earrings or something.

But still, there had been something very much particular in Draco Malfoy's eyes when he had looked at them…

"So, Malfoy," Theodore Nott drawled. "Are you going to grace my party with your presence."

"Unlikely," Draco's answer was curt as he glanced across the yard where Harry was sitting with his friends. He had not noticed them before. They were all obviously freshmen as well as Harry. He hadn't a reason to look at freshmen before.

"Why, not, Draco?" Daphne Greengrass inquired. "Pansy will miss you," she smirked.

Crabbe and Goyle snickered earning a glare from Draco. It was well known how annoyed Draco was with the blonde bimbo who clung on him on every chance.

"She should miss the part of her brain which is not where it should be," Draco grumbled.

"Well, but tell us what other plans do you have then?" Nott grinned. "I hope that you are not ignoring me without a good reason. A new paramour, maybe?"

"None of your business," Draco involuntary had to look over the yard where his 'new paramour' was sitting on the grass with his pretty little nose in a book.

"Don't be such ass, you know how boring a life in prosperity can be. Share your little dirty secrets with us," Daphne whined.

"I don't care if you don't have a life, Greengrass," Draco scoffed.

"No, really, Draco," Blaise joined the interrogation. "Why don't you share with us? What are you hiding? Or who?"

"Honestly, Zabini," Nott mocked. "You are worse than Parkinson."

"Shut up, Teddy," Zabini spat using the nickname the other boy hated the most. "Or I will make you," he threatened.

Nott only snorted.

Blaise completely ignored the dark-hired man. Instead he was watching Draco. Usually it was not in his nature to hide something from his best friend. Blaise was getting more worried with every passing day. Whatever was happening… there were no words to describe how little he liked it.

Draco ignored his friends and took out his cell phone. The conversation gave him an idea. Stepping away from everyone he typed a quick message. He hadn't seen Harry for two days. It was time to make arrangements. Draco couldn't help, but feel anticipation. Damn, he was so smitten, it was unbelievable!

Blaise angrily watched as Draco's lips turned up a bit as he typed a message on his phone.

Harry took his regular bus home; luckily he was alone, because Ron's lectures were not over yet. Luckily, because this time he got out after one stop. He looked around and on the opposite side of the street Draco was already waiting for him, leaning against his black, sleek car, arms crossed over his chest.

The blonde was wearing grey dress pants, a black shirt and shades. He looked elegant, rich and a bit dangerous. Harry thought that he had never felt so inadequate in his worn sneakers, faded jeans, which by the way he had borrowed from Ginny, and oversized jumper.

Draco took in his boy's appearance as he jogged across the street. 'His boy'. That was appropriate. Draco wondered had he ever dated anyone so poor. He had always thought that people like Harry and the Weasley's who the boy was living with were beneath him.

But did it matter? Once again he wondered why he was so obsessed… he liked the worn jeans or the way they hugged Harry's hips.

Draco didn't say anything as the boy approached him. He almost burst out laughing when Harry stopped in front of him and shifted from one foot to the other as if wondering if he was accepted and wanted there. The teenager was so insecure and timid sometimes. He should be ashamed for playing mind games with someone who didn't know the rules.

"You look nice," Draco complimented playfully and smiled. "Let's go somewhere."

Harry frowned as he got in the passenger seat of the car.

"I mean it," Draco took off boy's ever present baseball cap, grabbed Harry by his chin and pecked him on the full lips. "You really look nice."

The boy beamed at the blonde. It was worth it. If Draco had to say silly compliments to see his boy smiling, he could do it.

"Now you will tell me about your friends, the ones who I saw you with today," Draco ordered.

He got to know completely different Harry Potter as he talked about Ron, Hermione, Luna, Seamus, Neville and others. He finally opened up. It appeared that the boy was more comfortable when he talked about others, not himself.

"Lavender and the twins think that you are…" Harry started carried away by his story and suddenly stopped.

"What?" Draco raised a brow questioningly. "Come on, tell me! Teasing is not nice."

"They think you're hot," Harry murmured under his nose and blushed.

"Do you agree with them?" Draco couldn't resist.

"Maybe…" drawled Harry looking shyly at the older man from under his lashes.

"Maybe? Just maybe?" Draco pretended to be offended.

Harry just giggled.

Draco Malfoy also smiled. He was satisfied that he had finally gotten the boy to open up and relax a bit. Otherwise he had a feeling that Harry was scared of him or at least a bit shy which was adorable, but too much was too much.

Suddenly Draco realised that Harry interested him so much, because he was a mystery, a secret. Not like all the girls he was dating before – what you see is what you get. There was more behind those green eyes to discover and that was quite thrilling.

Right now he had decided to take the boy to see a movie, because he had found out that Harry had been in the cinema only a couple of times, both since he was living with Weasleys. It was still something new and exciting for the poor orphaned boy. Besides he could always take an advantage of the dark room.

Draco came into his room and threw the car-keys on the coffee table. He paid no mind Blaise already used to his habit to invite himself in. Still he was somewhat annoyed. Draco was even not sure why.

"So," Blaise started. "Have you found your boy in the drag?"

Draco stood still for a while and looked out of the window at the vast Malfoy garden. For some reason he still didn't want to share his affair, if one could call it that, with Blaise. It was like anyone else knowing about him and Harry would spoil everything.

But Blaise was his partner in crime. The only one Draco more or less trusted. He sighed and decided to be as honest with Zabini as he could or rather wanted to be.

"If you really want to know, yes, I found him, but," Draco made a significant pause. "Still, I don't want to discuss it with you, not yet."

"You are a fool, Malfoy," Blaise stood up, lit a cigarette and without saying another word left the room.

Draco wondered what exactly that last remark had meant.

Somewhere thousands of miles away, or not so far, someone was remembering his past. As often, he was leafing through an old photo album. It didn't look too good. The owner thought that the album with frayed edges and he himself had a lot in common. They were old and had seen better times.

But the old album was the dark-hired man's most cherished possession. No one else saw it as such, of course not, but the man was quite sure that this album was the one thing that had kept him sane for those long years he had spent away from the people whose pictures were secured in it.

The man was no fool. He knew that the most of those people he wouldn't see ever again, but it didn't mean he could forget them. Even if those people who had been so dear to him didn't exist anymore, the promises he had made them were still alive. The man had not been able to keep those promises. That was something what made man's heart bleed, he was not the one who regretted things he had done in his life, but he did something he hadn't done. Even if it was not his fault…

So much time he had lost. How could one not regret that? People in the pictures were smiling, hugging each other. They were young, cheerful and in love, all life was ahead of them. Life most of them never had a chance to live. The man wanted to cry when he thought about the unfairness of life. How cruel the fate had been to all of them. And there was nothing he could do; nothing could take his pain away.

But there was one more thing the man could do. There was one person he was living for and soon, very soon he would be finally able to keep his promises, to do what he had to do long time ago. Soon he would have his life back.

The man had only one picture of a boy. Very young boy, still a toddler, who was smiling in spite of the fact that he didn't had any teeth yet. Such an adorable, bright and loved child. The man wondered where the boy was now, what he looked like what he was doing. Was he happy? He just couldn't wait to see the boy again…

"I think you have been working hard enough for today," Draco announced when he had managed to sneak up upon his sweet one.

A smile spread over Harry's lips and he took off the gardening gloves.

He was used to Draco surprising him this way when Harry was working at the Manor, so it was not such a surprise anymore. It was something the boy was waiting for impatiently. If someone had told Harry that it was possible for him to be so happy… he had never thought that he would become so happy. Draco made him feel so special, so loved…

"Come here," the blonde suddenly swept up the boy in his arms. One arm under his knees, the other supporting his back.

"Draco!" Harry hissed and playfully hit the blonde on shoulder. "You are crazy! Someone will see us!"

"Not really," Draco smirked. "My parents are not at home, as usually the butler has some kind of business somewhere and asked for a night off, other servants had already left for the night and the security couldn't care less – they are watching the perimeter, not us," Draco explained continuing to carry the boy upstairs to his room.

"I must be heavy," Harry objected.

"You must be joking," Draco snorted. "You are as light as a feather. I could carry you around all day long and don't feel a thing."

Draco pushed the door to his room open and carried the boy in.

"Oh," was all Harry could say when he looked around.

"How eloquent," Draco commented.

"It is great?" Harry tried again.

"That's better," Draco smirked.

Harry liked very much what Draco had done to his room which usually seemed so square and cold because of the white walls and the dark furniture. Now the room was illuminated by the several dozens of candles. It made it appear more cosy and romantic and even slightly warmer. And his boyfriend had done it for him…

However Harry didn't have a chance to look around for too long since he was pretty much distracted by Draco's lips on his throat sucking hungrily.

"Draco," the boy moaned. Blonde's lips were so hot on his skin that the heat seemingly spread all over his body.

But Draco didn't loose time, he carried Harry further in the room and in no time the boy was lying in the middle of Draco's enormous bed with the blonde on the top of him.

Draco had his hands under Harry's shirt running them along boy's sides and flat stomach. He wanted more skin. He wanted to feel everything with his hands and taste with his mouth, he couldn't hold back anymore. Draco had wanted it for more than a year and now when they had been dating for about a month and he knew what was there for him, Draco really didn't want to wait any longer.

He knew that Harry had the cutest and roundest little bottom he had ever touched; now Draco wanted to see it too and map it out with his lips. He detached himself from Harry's mouth only to pull off boy's jumper and t-shirt.

Harry didn't make any protests. Draco looked down at his lover laying there so delicate and still innocent. All for him. He looked in Harry's unnaturally green eyes and saw there the love and adoration and devotion.

"You are so…" Draco didn't finish what he had wanted to say, he decided that he wanted to use his mouth to taste Harry's nipples, which were so tempting, small, dark and hard.

Draco had pushed one of his knees between Harry's legs and he could feel that the boy was as aroused as himself and probably desperately trying not to rub against his leg. Draco was going to loose his mind.

Draco lifted his head and looked in the emerald green eyes. "Harry," he whispered huskily. "I need you." He rocked his hips against younger man's crotch; he wanted to make sure that he didn't say 'no'. Draco was afraid that he would go mad if Harry said 'no'.

"Harry," Draco traced the shell of boy's ear with his tongue. "You are so sweet, you taste so good, and I want to taste all of you. I want you…"

He reached for the button of Harry's jeans and look in his face once more asking permission.

Harry nodded. He has never been good at saying 'no' and he was not sure if he wanted to. Draco was his everything and there was no one else to whom he would surrender all of himself so willingly.

Harry had fallen asleep not long after they lovemaking and was snoring softly next to Draco, his dark hair spread over the pillow in sharp contrast with the white linens.

Draco had decided to let the boy sleep for a bit. They didn't have a lot of time; Harry would have to return home soon.

Harry was so adorable while asleep. Draco smiled softly. How could anyone be so beautiful? And a boy… Draco reached out and entwined one of the dark brown locks around his finger.

Their first time had been perfect, it had been more than Draco had ever imagined. When Draco had gotten Harry completely naked, the boy had spread his legs for him and looked away blushing, still shy of being so exposed and wanton in front of his lover. Draco had gently turned Harry's head back to face him and covered the hot cheeks with butterfly kisses.

Even if it hadn't been the best sex in Draco's life, it had been something incredible, something he would never forget. He had had plenty of partners which had been both experienced and skilful and had meant nothing. None of them had surrendered themselves to him so wholly; none of them had tears in their eyes as he took them. None of them had been Harry…

Draco had this funny feeling inside, very strange, like something was there, something alive and bright, something that hadn't been there before, something that made him grin like an idiot.

Was it happiness?

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title** : Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humor :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story. Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: NC15

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing.

Chapter Six 

Harry wondered if it was obvious. Could one see that he was not so innocent anymore? Was it possible to tell that he had been with Draco that way?

Maybe Hermione could tell? She was incredibly observant and the smartest person he knew.

When Harry had voiced his doubts Draco, he had laughed and told him not to be silly and kissed Harry on his forehead and told him that there was nothing the boy could do to look anything but perfectly chaste and a bit cluess.

Even if Harry knew what was the big deal about sex now…

Yes, indeed, he knew. The teenager couldn't help it – he still blushed and shivered every time he thought how he and Draco had been together, what they had done with each other.

But the big deal really was not about what they did, some of it had been even a bit uncomfortable at first. For Harry it was about being together with someone one cared for so much. Being so close to the other person that it was impossible to tell where one ended and other started.

Harry smiled to himself dreamily and returned to the book he was leafing through. It was one of the books with reproductions of famous paintings. He enjoyed looking at good works of art, even if only in the book. Harry could only wish to see them all in the original one day.

The boy was so lost in the book, so it took some time to notice that someone was standing next to him or rather looming over him. When Harry finally felt the presence, he looked up. He instantly recognized the young, blonde man with blue eyes whom he always saw him next to Draco. Those eyes were similar to Ron's only when his best friend looked at him, Harry felt calm and happy, but in Blaise's eyes there was such coldness that he had to shudder involuntary and they made him wish to hide.

Harry had no idea why Draco's friend was there, but he had a bad feeling about it. Maybe the blonde was waiting for him to say something, but Harry couldn't really think of anything. Should he just say 'hello' or some other kind of greeting? They were not really acquainted with each other.

Finally Blaise was one to break the silence.

"So," he sneered. "You are, Draco's little boy toy."

Harry was shocked that the man knew about Draco and him even if he probably shouldn't, Blaise was his lover's friend after all.

Still, Harry really didn't know what to answer to that. He didn't like to be called anybody's toy, but it was not the first time someone was calling him names. In his old school he had experienced worse.

"No need to say anything," Blaise leaned against the table too close for Harry's comfort. "I just wanted to take a look at you. I must say that I am disappointed. There isn't really anything worth looking at. But its no wonder that Draco is hiding you from everyone… do you get your clothes from the Salvation Army? I really don't understand what he sees in you… but apparently he has enough sense to be ashamed of you."

Harry knew that he should **really** say something now, but he just looked down at his book. Maybe because he agreed with the older man. There was nothing about him to show off… He was not sure himself what Draco saw in him and he was very much aware how different they were… Draco was so much better than him, but they were so happy together, they felt good. Draco loved him… or did he? Harry thought that he did, even if they never talked about it. They never talked about their relationship as such.

Harry thought that it was not necessary. He was happy and grateful, having Draco was more than he had ever whished for.

No one even knew that they were together.

That was not only Draco's fault. Harry couldn't imagine telling his friends that he was gay and was dating someone and that someone was Draco Malfoy. He was accepted by someone for the first time in his life. What if Weasleys didn't like that he preferred men? What if his friends didn't accept Draco? What if Draco's friends and family didn't accept him? They probably wouldn't…

When Harry and Draco were together there were only two of them, the outside world didn't matter and couldn't hurt them or break them apart. But what if they had to face it? What if someone find out and outed them? What would become of them? Harry really didn't want to know. He was afraid of the day when that particular question would be answered.

Blaise's sneer grew uglier if that was possible. He saw the boy thinking, the wheels were turning in the little, pretty head. Blaise decided that he was a cute little thing, but very insecure and easily manipulated, that much was obvious. This was exactly what Blaise needed.

He had been following Draco. There had been no choice, because Malfoy hadn't been very forthcoming with information. The prick! Blaise had seen them both together and he hadn't liked what he saw. Draco had never gone out with anyone for so long – it was almost Christmas. Besides he had never been so touchy-feely about someone he had been shagging.

At first he had wanted to let Draco have his fun, but this was going too far, so he had decided to interfere.

Blaise looked down at the boy arrogantly: "I just wanted to see, what was Draco so infatuated with. I don't really see it. Enjoy yourself Potter, while you can. Ta! Till the next time!"

Blaise smirked one more time and walked away leaving Harry behind with a lot to think about and hopefully with a lot of doubts. It was amazing how well little seeds planted in the right soil could grow.

"Harry,"

The boy instantly spun around. Nothing could affect him more than his lover's voice. It made him feel so warm inside, it took his breath away, it lit a thousand watt smile on his face and made his knees weak.

"Come, baby, let's get in the car, you must be cold," Draco beckoned and guided the boy to his BMW, making Harry blush, since the guiding was done by blonde's hand on his bottom.

"Draco," Harry hissed. "We are in public!"

"Don't fret, the street there is no one of any importance around," a predatory smirk was adorning blonde's face. He loved to see Harry like this – embarrassed, scandalized, but still enjoying his touches despite that the logic and conscience told him that he shouldn't.

Considering the shyness and inexperience, he hadn't expected that Harry would be so good in bed either. Usually he didn't bed virgins… or boys. But it was not bad at all; he had a pleasure of teaching his lover everything Draco wanted him to know and Harry was very obedient and did everything what was asked without questioning which was just perfectly mind bowing.

Harry sighed. He knew that there was no point to argue. His boyfriend loved to rile him up, even Harry was not dim enough to miss that.

"Don't pout," Draco stroked boy's lips with his thumb. "You look too adorable, I might do something even more embarrassing to you right here and that is not what I had planned for this afternoon. I hope that you are hungry," Draco started the car. "Because we are going to have a nice dinner. Ok?"

He shot Harry one of those dazzling smiles which usually made people do whatever the Malfoy heir asked of them.

Harry just nodded. There was no need to charm him. He was ready to do whatever his lover wanted. Especially since they were going to part for some time. Draco was leaving London for Christmas.

"It is kind of tradition," he had explained. "Maybe the only tradition we have as a family. My mother says that there must be snow during Christmas. One can't get that in London, so every year we go to some kind of place where it's snowing for sure. It is going to be Italy this year. Alps, you know? A lot of snow up there and hotels which are fancy enough.

Maybe Christmas is the only time of year when we spend some time together properly. Besides fancy dinner parties when father wants to show off what a perfect family he has… Of course the fact that we spend time together as family doesn't mean that some business partner of father's or someone else important enough is not conveniently there in the same time and same place. I usually take Zabini with me to guard my sanity."

Draco didn't notice the way Harry shifted uncomfortably as he mentioned Blaise's name.

"I would like to spend the holiday here with you," Draco continued. "But as much as I would like to stay here and spend time with you… there is no way around it. My parents leave me alone all year long. Except Christmas. It's works like a magic – as if there is some spell making me invisible which suddenly falls around the end of December. Personally I think it's… Well, whatever."

"Draco," Harry had replied. "I understand. You must go, certainly. Family is very important. Don't be angry with them. They must be very busy, it doesn't mean that they don't love you… You must spend time with your parents. I will be here when you will return, don't worry, I won't go anywhere."

Draco looked at Harry smiling sadly. Trust his lover to make excuses for his parents. Despite the fact how fucked up Harry's own family had been, he still believed that people were good. He didn't quite get it, but whatever.

Honestly, he and Harry were the most mismatched couple there could be. Draco was afraid that one day he would hurt the boy just because he was who he was. A Malfoy. He tried not to think about that at all. It was easier that way or just that the other way it was damn hard.

"We will have all the time in the world to spend together," Harry smiled looking at Draco with his big green eyes which held more promises than some people could give with their most sincerely meant and passionate oaths. And it made something break in blonde's chest a little bit.

"You say so?"

"Yes,"

"Mmm," Draco raised a brow. "Can I have a sample of it now?"

Harry smiled shyly: "Of course you can."

And then they had snogged as if there was no tomorrow.

That had been about a week ago. Now it was almost Christmas. Draco's plane was leaving next day and he was saying 'goodbye'.

They were eating in a small, dim restaurant not far from Draco's flat, nothing grand, "Pol's Place" or "Paul's Place", but it didn't matter, the food was good enough not to cause poisoning and they really didn't pay it that much attention. Both men couldn't keep their eyes off each other for long enough to notice what exactly they were eating. This kind of thing was nothing new since they had started having sex together.

Harry tried to have some decency and tell his companion how he and Ron had gone to the Camden Town and visited Fred and Gorge in the place they worked. After they came home Ron had opened his bag and several dozens of condoms had fallen out of it right in front of Mrs. Weasley's eyes…

Harry started to laugh remembering how red Ron's face had been and how wide Mrs. Weasley's eyes had gotten and noticed that Draco was not laughing with him, but rather staring at his lips quite intently.

Harry picked up a glass and took a sip from it just to fill the awkward silence with some kind of action or something.

Should he try to talk about something else or… The boy looked at Draco and almost chocked on his water when he saw the way the blonde man was looking at him. Harry had never seen anyone with such fire in their eyes and it was him whom those eyes were devouring.

Harry bit his lip, suddenly he couldn't think about anything to say.

Finally Draco broke the intense silence. "Would you mind if we moved to my flat, it's not far from here," the blonde suggested.

Harry lifted his head and looked his lover in the eye, his cheeks pinkish and green eyes brighter than usually: "O-ok…"

The younger male was embarrassed, because there was no doubt what they were going to do as soon as they got to Draco's flat. But he was just a teenage boy sometimes…

Later as usually Draco gave Harry a ride to the Weasleys' house. Both men stayed in the car for some time just looking at each other. None of them had anything significant to say and none of them felt like spoiling the moment with empty words.

Instead Harry leaned over Draco and kissed him with open mouth, putting everything he felt in that one kiss, all the passion and caring there was; he showed how much he was going to miss his lover.

It was over too soon for Draco's liking, he loved when Harry took the initiative which happened more and more lately.

They parted. Harry got out of the car and walked down the street. As usually Draco hadn't stopped right in the front of 'The Burrow' for obvious reasons. Harry forced himself to keep walking, he didn't look back even if he wanted to see Draco one more time.

Then he heard a car starting. Draco's car. Draco was leaving.

No, Draco was not leaving; he was just going away for a week. Still, Harry couldn't get rid of the uneasiness he felt. The boy was scared. He was afraid that one day Draco would leave and wouldn't come back. The teenager knew that he should be more confident, but confidence was something he had always lacked.

Draco… Draco was too good for him, Harry new it. He didn't need Blaise Zabini to tell him that.

He didn't want to loose his lover, Draco was his life.

Harry hugged tighter the parcel in his hands. It was a present. A Christmas present from Draco. Also the first real present in his life.

Harry missed him already.

Harry hid his first Christmas present in his bag. Draco had made him promise that it wouldn't be opened before Christmas Eve. The blonde had not been as cruel and made him wait till the Boxing Day though. That was already a very good thing. Besides Harry wouldn't want to open it in front of everyone, that could lead to very uncomfortable questions. There were going to be enough people who would ask exactly those. Nosiness was something of a tradition in a family with seven children, no one deserved having secrets if they were not capable of guarding them.

"Hi," Harry greeted Ron and Mrs. Weasley who were in her usual position at the stove.

"Can I help you with something?" The boy offered.

"No, honey, I am fine," no true cook ever welcomed anyone messing with their food. "But there is something I will have to ask you. I am sorry, but you will have to room with Ron. Percy and Charlie are coming home and Bill will bring his girlfriend, so we won't have enough room unless you boys share… sorry Harry."

"Oh, I don't mind at all," Harry smiled and looked at Ron who had staring in his tea cup intently. "You don't have to look so excited, Ron," the dark-hired boy teased.

Ron looked startled: "Oh, no, Harry, it's not that, really, I don't mind!"

"Sure, you don't," Harry smirked. "It's not me who can wake dead with his snoring."

Ron blushed.

"It's, Ok, Ron," Harry sniggered. "I am just teasing you."

Ron knew that he was being teased and it made him feel exactly as it made feel a guy who was being teased by a girl who he had crush on. The fact that Harry was no girl didn't help much, the fact that he was his best friend and his mother saw him as one of her own also didn't help much. The fact that he would be sharing a room with someone he was infatuated with was also not going to help.

Bollocks! Ron will be living in the same room with Harry about whom he already had improper thoughts. It scared him, it exited him, it drove him crazy.

"Hey, are you going to help me to move or not?" Harry threw his back pack at Ron who snapped out of whatever reverie he was having and caught it promptly.

"What's gotten into you, mate," Harry giggled as they climbed upstairs and Ron tried not to check out his friend's bottom.

Draco was nursing a glass of rum in his hand. Malfoys' private jet had just taken off the airport and he was drinking already.

Draco had a feeling that this was going to be the worst Christmas-trip ever; he made a wry face at the thought.

"Is something wrong, my son?" Lucius inquired in his cultured, but cold tone.

Draco looked up at his father and drowned the rest of his drink: "Everything is just peachy." The sarcasm was evident.

Blaise snorted from behind the glossy magazine he was reading.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" With a raised elbow the eldest Malfoy motioned at the second glass Draco was pouring for himself.

Draco looked in his wristwatch: "It's already eleven in Italy."

Lucius rolled his eyes at his son's lame joke.

"Be compassionate Mr. Malfoy," Blaise talked behind his book. "He just misses his sweetheart."

Draco pressed his lips together tightly and in his mind cursed Zabini for opening his big gob. The less his father knew about his private life, the better Draco was feeling.

"Oh, really," Lucius smiled looking pleased. "A new conquest? Someone we know?"

"I doubt that," Blaise commented and gave an ironical laugh which earned him a glare from Draco.

"I would very much appreciate if you stayed out f my private life," the warning was meant for his best friend.

Lucius gave a laugh: "And I thought that you were past the age where you are embarrassed to talk about your girls…"

"Oh, leave him alone already, my dear," Narcissa interrupted her husband. "Can't you see that our son is not in s very good mood?"

"He is a Malfoy, Narcissa," Lucius was suddenly gravely serious." **Our** son should be above such petty things as moods. I think you have been enjoying your childhood for too long, Draco. It is time for you to take more responsibility. In the real world where I am living there will be no one to indulge your moods."

"Not now, Lucius," Narcissa smiled sweetly at her husband. "Now is really not the time."

"It is always the time," Lucius replied, but let his wife be. She was living a very sheltered life which was not going to change as long as she followed the rules.

The same was true about Draco; he also knew what he had to do, what he was and what he wasn't allowed to do.

The Malfoy senior was satisfied with his son so far.

However Draco was a man and his heir, which meant that soon Lucius was going to ask more of his son. Very soon. Draco would have to prove his worth.

The rest of the flight was peaceful. Lucius worked on his lap top, Narcissa and Blaise were chattering as if they both were women, exchanging rumours mostly and Draco was staring out of the window, trying to tune them out.

As soon as they arrived at the hotel Draco left for his room and closed the door behind him. He didn't notice the way his companions looked after him each bearing a different expression.

Sometimes his father made him sick. Al that talk about responsibilities, it usually meant that Lucius wanted him to do something Draco didn't want to do. The man enjoyed his little games, he wanted more and more power, it was never enough. It was not like he needed the money, Lucius Malfoy enjoyed the process and sometimes Draco doubted that it was worth it. He just wanted to be left alone and live his own life, but somehow doubted that his father was going to let him.

Draco spent the next day outside. He actually liked sun, snow and skiing. It let him feel free of everything. Funny, but Draco hadn't realized that he needed to escape from his life for a bit before he had learned how to ski. Only when he got on his skis, the Malfoy heir realized how much he had missed them, how much he needed them.

Blaise and his parents were also there, but on the track it was easy to put enough distance between them. About an hour later Narcissa as usually was already tired and ready to enjoy the spa, Lucius was the second to finish, but Draco and Blaise were skiing almost until the dark. Draco knew that he was going to pay for it the next day, but was enjoying the experience too much to make himself quit timely.

Finally he had enough. It took Draco some time to find Blaise, but eventually he stopped next to his friend and proposed to return to the hotel.

Blaise just nodded. The little prick was giving Draco the silent treatment since the day before and Draco even hadn't done anything. Recently their relationship had been more than strained anyway.

It continued more or less the same way as they were walking back to the hotel as they had drinks in the bar and later during the dinner with Draco's parents. Malfoys were not known for their patience and sweet temper, so it was not long before Draco lost it.

"We need to talk, Blaise. My room, now," he ordered.

"I am not in the mood," the other man spat back.

"Now," Draco grabbed him by the hand.

Blaise smirked as he was manhandled and forcibly dragged in Draco's room and made to sit in one of the puffy armchairs. He knew his best friend so well and could play him easily enough.

"Ok, Zabini," Draco pinned his friend with a gaze that made the other blonde shiver. He was so strong, a predator. If Draco kept looking like that Blaise was sure that he was going to come in his pants. He wouldn't mind to be pinned to the floor with Draco on top of him though…

"I want to know what is wrong with you lately," the other man went on oblivious to his friend's predicament.

Blaise suddenly looked surprised. "Wrong? With me? Oh, Draco," he gave a short, nervous laugh. "I am sorry to break it to you, but it is not me who had changed. It's you, my friend. Or are we still friends?"

"Is all this drama really necessary," Draco turned away to face the window.

"It wouldn't be necessary if you were not such an idiot, Draco. You have changed a lot since you met that little whore of yours…"

"Don't call him that!"

"He's not even here, Draco! And since when do you care of your whores so much? That's exactly what I mean. Like an idiot you are running around with that boy, getting all emotional and touchy-feely. You are neglecting you friends, you are not talking to me anymore. Why? Answer me?"

Blaise took a deep breath, it was important not to get too carried away: "Do you think that I mind that you are fucking a boy? Would be rather hypocritical of me, don't you think? What is the reason?"

"Blaise…"

"Don't, Draco, don't… I just don't understand how you can be with someone you are such ashamed of. I saw the kid, I understand, really, but haven't you had enough already? You are not yourself anymore. Even your father sees it. Drop that, that thing before you get in trouble… I saw him; I understand that you are ashamed of…"

"I am not ashamed of him, Blaise," Draco interrupted the other man. "I am not. I am… I am protecting him. Protecting of people like you, like Nott, like my father. I am not ashamed; I just don't want people like me contaminating what we have. You have no idea how wonderful he is… I can't let you close to him."

Draco hid face in his hands. He probably hadn't realized what he thought before he had said it.

Blaise was glad that Draco was not looking at him, because it was probably very obvious how horrified his expression was.

Draco sighed: "I am sorry, Blaise. You are right, I have been an asshole. I just don't want to talk about it. It's too… too much sometimes."

"It's, Ok, Draco, really," Blaise stood up, walked across the room and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. He would have to be very careful. This was very serious. "You are very tense Draco," Blaise let his hand slide down his friend's strong back and then moved to massaging his shoulders. "I will help you with that. You know that I am here for you, don't you?"

"Thank you," Draco started relaxing. Zabini knew how to give a good back rub.

"I am sorry for upsetting you," Blaise cooed. "You were not yourself and not talking to me, I was worried."

"Don't, I will figure it out one day,"

"I know you will, Draco, I understand how hard it is, but you will find a solution,"

"Mmm, Blaise, you are damn good," Draco moaned as the other man continued working on his muscles.

Blaise didn't answer anything to that. He wished he could show Draco how good exactly he was it was fucking unfair that even a little beggar like Harry Potter got a piece of Draco, everyone but him. But Blaise had to be patient and careful.

As often the Malfoy family was going to spend the Christmas Eve partying. Draco dressed up in a pair of black slacks and a dark blue dress shirt. There was going to be a party in the hotel, so he had to look decent, but not too formal, so the tie was not necessary. Besides he didn't need fancy clothes to get attention. On the contrary, if the clothes were to flashy, they made him look like a peacock. Blaise could pull it off, but not Draco.

Then he thought about Harry, who didn't care about style that much and wore torn jeans, ratty t-shirts and oversized jumpers, but still managed to be the sexiest boy he had ever seen.

As Draco came down the festivities had already begun. The rich and famous were chatting animatedly with each other. Expensive drinks were served and consumed like water. Some of the patrons were already slightly intoxicated and Draco assumed that not from liquor only.

His mother had already gathered a crowd of equally posh, rich wives around herself and Draco decided to avoid them, they were too… too everything for his taste. He personally thought that they problem was that they had too much of everything and were painfully bored and annoying to boot.

Blaise was nowhere to be seen, probably whoring himself out to someone already.

Draco spotted his father in company of some men who looked important and wealthy enough to be possible business partners. Lucius noticed his son and beckoned him to join them.

"Gentlemen," he smiled indulgently. "Some of you had already met him, but for those who hadn't – let me introduce my son to you. This is Draco."

The younger Malfoy nodded to everyone.

"Tell me Draco," one of the men spoke up. "Are you going to join your father's company soon?"

"We haven't decided yet," Lucius answered for his son. "I am not sure what would be better for my son, to come and work with me right after finishing his studies or to train under his godfather for a couple of years. He owns a very decent law firm, you have probably heard of it…"

And so it went on and on, Draco was a good son of his father, smiled when it was necessary, joked when he had to and answered all the questions he was asked. He was perfectly capable of playing his role when he wanted to. Draco had intended to remind his father of that.

A bit later Lucius smiled at Draco and asked their companions to excuse them; he wanted to have a word with his heir in private.

"I am proud of you my son," Lucius put a hand on Draco's shoulder.

Draco didn't say anything, but he was privately disgusted with himself. 'I am proud of you'… he was still pleased when he heard his father say those words. Like a puppy that got patted once in a while and forgot every time his master kicked him for a pat on his head.

"Would you do something for me son?" That was not really a question. Lucius would never expect for Draco to say 'no'. And Draco didn't, he nodded.

"See that woman wearing navy-blue dress? Beautiful, isn't she? Her name is Lora Avery, she wanted to be introduced to you. Miss Avery is on the board of directors in her father's company which will build a hotel for me in Spain. Surely you will be able to settle all the doubts she has left, not a chore too hard, right?" Lucius winked conspiratorially.

Draco nodded and took a sip from his glass and watched his father return to his acquaintances.

Draco stood there for some time. It was not the first time his father had asked him to do something like that and the woman was not ugly, no, she was damn gorgeous, but still… never, ever before he had wanted to throw it back at his father so much. Tell him to fuck the bitch himself if he thought that she was so pretty… Draco hated his father that moment, he was thinking about going back and telling 'no'. That would be like the first time probably and his father didn't ask him to do something too often.

It was himself who Draco truly hated at the moment.

He was going to do it just because is father had asked…

a couple of hours later Draco staggered in his room straight to the en-suit bathroom where he fell on his knees in front of the toilet bowl and threw up. He had had too much to drink. Lora hadn't minded. Sometimes he wondered what made him so desirable that people were ready to loose all their dignity to get in his bed.

Draco ran his fingers through his tousled blonde hair. He had never felt so dirty, so used in his life. This was not right, not what he did, but what he was feeling. Guilt. He was thinking bout Harry and it made him feel guilty.

It had never mattered that he cheated on his girlfriends. He never made any promises. And even if they found out that he had slept with someone else they had to forget bout it or he moved to the next conquest, he could always find someone else, more understanding.

But Harry was not the sort, which was obvious, if he knew he would be hurt. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him, right?

But why did he felt like such a jerk then? That hadn't meant anything, it had been just sex. He shouldn't feel so bad. Morals, he even didn't want to hear the word, morals, ethics, all that bullshit was relative. Malfoys stood above good and bad all of that was comparative.

But Harry… Harry probably believed in all that, he was awfully naïve and probably believed that Draco was a good person. He didn't want to hurt him of all the people, if there was someone who didn't deserve that, it was Harry.

Draco sank on the floor in the front of his bed. "Merry Christmas to me," he laughed bitterly.

Then Draco remembered his present. The only one he really had wanted to open. Now he didn't felt like he deserved it, but… but… well, some people didn't get what they deserved; other always got more than they did.

Draco took the scroll which was wrapped in green paper and tied with a silver band. He thought he knew what it was, but that didn't mean that Draco was less anxious to see his present.

He carefully pealed off the wrapping paper and unrolled the canvas on his bed. Draco froze. It was beautiful, gorgeous. Draco had never known that his lover was so good. This was the best present he had ever had. It was a portrait of himself, painted by Harry. The way Harry saw him. Draco was touched and hurt in the same time. Harry saw him like that, fair and beautiful. What would he think if he knew who Draco really was?

It had not been easy for Harry to find a moment when he was alone in the Burrow. The small house was as crowded as ever. But he wanted to open Draco's present. Harry listened carefully and heard that no one was approaching and fetched the box from his bag. The wrapping paper was covered with red and gold pattern, it was very beautiful itself and probably very expensive. Harry didn't feel comfortable about ruining the fine paper.

Harry ran his fingers over it… so beautiful

He carefully unwrapped his present, folding the fine material.

There was a wooden box in there, quite large and heavy, Harry opened it. A smile spread over his face. Draco had given him oil-pant, very good paint. He would never be able to afford it himself. Perfect present. Very thoughtful. He hoped Draco liked his too.

These were going to be the best Christmas Harry had ever had. He had known that even before. There would be no Dursleys, no Aunt Marge.

"Harry!" Ginny's voice roared from somewhere downstairs. "Come already!"

The boy hid his unwrapped present and the paper back in his back pack and padded downstairs to join the Weasleys at the Christmas dinner.

There was one seat left for him by the table next to Ron. Harry beamed at the redheads. He and Fleur Delacour were the only two who didn't have any ginger hair. Still, Harry felt a bit sorry for the blonde girl – she was in a foreign country and her boyfriend Bill was the only one she knew well. Besides apparently the both Weasley women didn't like her much.

Well, Harry finally had a chance to get to know the older Weasleys' children.

Bill worked in a bank, something to do with security, and at the moment he was living in the France, that way he had met Fleur.

Charlie was working with wild animals in preserve in Africa. Charlie was kind of cool, Harry had to agree with Ron and Ginny about that and he told the best stories. Harry was in a bit of awe – not everyday he met someone who had seen lions in their natural habitat.

Harry had to admit that he didn't like Percy Weasley much and Percy probably didn't like him too. Or maybe that was not the case. The young man was very cold to the rest of his family too. Apparently he had close relationship only with his mother who doted on her son.

As the dinner proceeded Harry felt more and more accepted by all of the Weasley family. At first he had been afraid that they will not like the fact that their parents had simply invited someone from street to live in their house. But apparently they all were very nice people.

"Hey!" Harry slapped grinning Ron on his hand. "Stay with your fork in your own plate!" Ron has a nasty habit of stealing bites from his plate.

"I would be afraid to stay in the same room with that insatiable brother of ours," George teased.

"Yeah, one night you will wake up with your hand or foot in his mouth," Fred joined his brother.

"With half of the fingers gone," George continued.

Ron's face reddened. "Very funny…"

"Leave your brother alone," Molly chided. That shut twins up for… about five minutes.

Later Harry was sleeping in his bed opposite to Ron's with his eyes still wide open. He couldn't sleep. The boy was too excited. These were the best Christmas ever. Finally he had a family. Usually he had spent his Christmas alone in his room , since Dursleys hadn't wanted him around. He had always thought about his parents. Harry knew almost nothing about them. Only that Dursleys hadn't liked them and said that they were bad people. Harry didn't want to believe his aunt and uncle, because they probably said it to hurt him, but he still had all kinds of doubts. He wondered if there was a way for him to find out something more about them.

"Harry," Ron whispered silently from where he was sleeping in the dark.

"Yes, Ronald,"

"Harrrry," Ron groaned. "Only my mother calls me that when she is angry about something."

"Sorry, Ron,"

"No, you not, you are teasing me on purpose, brat," Harry could tell by Ron's voice that he was not really angry. "You were not sleeping?"

"No, not yet, I couldn't,"

"Me too," Ron sighed.

"I was thinking about my parents and… stuff. You?"

Ron bit his lip. There was no way he could tell Harry the real reason why he couldn't sleep, because his dark-hired best friend was it.

"It's nothing," Ron lied. "Sleep, Harry."

The holiday was great. Harry had fantastic time. Twins even if they were not living in the Burrow spent most of the time there. It turned out that all the Weasleys loved football and didn't mind playing it even if it was not very warm outside. Even Ginny. They tried to teach Harry who had never had a chance to learn. It turned out that he was not bad, even if he didn't had as much practice as other boys.

Hermione had came along, but she was sitting at the side and watching. The bushy haired know-it-all didn't find sport worthy of her time. With Fred, George, Ginny, Bill, Charlie and Ron they couldn't form even teams and Harry was getting tired, so he joined Hermione on the side.

"God," he panted. "I am out of breath!"

Hermione looked at the small boy. His cheeks were burning because of cold and exercise and his eyes were brighter than ever. If she compared the Harry she had met four months ago and this happy, vigorous person… the difference was prominent.

Harry was sitting next to Hermione and watching the Weasleys play, shouting encouragements to both teams. He was not wearing the baseball cap so often anymore, mostly because Draco didn't like it and yanking it off his head was the first thing the blonde always did when they met. Harry was getting used to not hiding from the world that much.

"Hey, Harry," Hermione looked at the boy searchingly. "You have changed a lot recently. What is happening?" She narrowed her eyes.

The boy almost cursed the fact that his friend was so perceptive: "Have I?" he asked smiling innocently.

"Certainly, you seem to be happier or something, more relaxed," she noted mentally making a list, adding one fact to other.

"You think so?" Harry fidgeted nervously.

"Yes, I do," Hermione stated with all conviction in the world staring intently at Harry who didn't meet her eyes. Finally it clicked. "Harry! Are you seeing someone?"

Boy's eyes widened: "Why would you say anything like that?"

"I told you already, you are awfully happy, more confident, you had that dreamy look on your face, besides Ron is complaining that sometimes he has no idea where you are spending your time, he asked me if you are really sitting in the library that late," she recited the facts.

Harry looked at his friend guiltily.

Hermione sighed: "You boys are so… why don't you just tell us? Nooo! Instead you sneak around as it was some kind of crime to be with someone. I know that you are shy, but honestly! I don't see a reason to hide it so much unless there is something wrong or you are dating someone you think you shouldn't…" suddenly she looked at the boy through narrowed eyes. "Who are you seeing Harry?"

"Hermione…" the boy looked at her as if he was truly shocked by the fact that she had figured everything out. "Listen, Hermione, I don't… you are mistaken! I am not dating anyone!"

"The hell, you aren't!"

"Hermione!" Harry pleaded.

"Why can't you just tell me?"

"I can't…"

"I am not going to judge you, Harry, you know that I am not like that, tell me or I will be worried!" She demanded. "It is not Luna, right?"

"No!"

"Is it a boy?"

Harry almost had a heart attack.

"It is, I knew it!" the girl shouted triumphantly. "Don't worry, Harry, I don't mind, really, your secret is safe with me."

"Hermione you, you…" Harry stuttered, then he sprang to his feet. "I am going home!"

"Harry!" Hermione shouted after Harry who was running away.

Ok, maybe she had gone over the top and made her friend uncomfortable. She always got too enthusiastic when she discovered something new.

Harry was walking home, back to the burrow, hardly looking where he put his feet. Hermione knew! Not everything, but enough to make Harry bolt… maybe it had been better if he talked to Hermione?

He knew that he would have to talk to her sooner or later, Hermione was not going to leave him alone, it was not her stile. Trying to avoid her for forever was not going to work.

But right now Harry was awfully uncomfortable. One of his friends had found out that he was… was gay.

Honestly, Harry hated the word, it sounded so, so… gay, like happy, there was something terribly annoying about the term. He didn't want to be this 'gay', he just wanted to be with Draco Malfoy.

Damn it, he missed Draco terribly.

TBC

AN: Thank you my loyal readers, setsunamoon, Xylor Anamay, srbjm, pepper, bookworm51485, thrnbrooke, hotseek, lilcrazdmaniac69, amyordinary, angelkitty77, penchy, NightLo, chiaki, Soffe Malfoy, JemDragon1584 and all the other people who are reading and reviewing.

To those who are afraid that I might not finish this or other of my stories, I will sooner or after, because I just hate unfinished stories, sometimes you start reading something very good and one day author stops writing. I am not going to do that. It just might take time. Keep reviewing and making me feel guilty that I am not updating more often – that helps.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title** : Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humor :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story. Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: No younger than teens

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing.

Chapter Seven 

The moment Draco Malfoy climbed out of his car; he had had his arms full of Harry Potter.

"Oh! Harry!" He gave a laugh surprised by the sudden assault. "I see that you really missed me."

"Hi," the boy grinned shyly, slightly embarrassed that he had been so straightforward. But when he tried to release his lover, Draco was the one who secured Harry's arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss hungrily attacking other's sweet lips, licking, sucking and biting. Draco just couldn't get enough of those full, delicious lips.

When they finally broke apart the blonde groaned: "How can you taste so good?"

Harry really didn't know what to say and Draco wasn't really expecting an answer since he was too occupied with sucking on boy's neck. "I want you so fucking much, my petite Cinderella."

"Cinderella?" The boy moaned unable to stay calm when his lover had one hard, muscular thigh between his legs.

"Yes," Draco whispered huskily. "You ran from the ball the first time we met, didn't you?"

Harry just whimpered; coherence had just left him as soon as a strong hand started caressing his bum.

"I have a preposition," Draco whispered, his breath hot and husky against the younger man's neck, lips attacking the soft skin. "It's not a decent preposition, but, oh well, since we are long past decent… would you minded if we went to my flat?" There was a familiar, not quite natural brightness in his grey eyes.

"No," Harry replied without thinking. "I don't think I would. Whatever you want, Draco."

"That is the right answer," the blonde ushered him into the car making himself let go of the delectable boy.

They managed to share another passionate kiss before Draco started his car. During the ride Harry was not looking anywhere, but at his lover. Draco was gorgeous. No one could have doubted that. The dark-hired orphan was not sure what he had done to deserve someone like that. In fact Harry decided that he had never seen someone as gorgeous as Draco Malfoy in his whole life.

But more than all the things which were perfect about him, Harry cherished the knowledge about those traits which weren't. at first he had been blinded by Draco's looks and self-confidence and his strength. Harry himself had none of those. Then he had gotten closer and started seeing behind the icy exterior. There was hidden vulnerability and fear. There were doubts. Draco was as mortal as everyone else and needed as many hugs and kisses as everyone else. Harry hoped that if he stayed around long enough his lover would open to him one day; tell about his father, mother, about his hopes, dreams and fears. But the dark-hired boy was ready to give Draco all the time in the world. He was very patient after all. He could endure and wait. Wait for the cupboard door to open, for his next meal… well he was experienced in waiting.

Draco was thinking that he was lucky to have someone like Harry, someone who was so different from the other people around him, like a fresh breeze. Someone who was not narcissistic, someone who didn't want to show him off, someone who didn't care for money and even less for power and didn't want any of those from him. someone who wanted to give instead of trying to get something out of him. Harry wasn't using him. That was indeed refreshing. This was so easy and perfect. Someone who was ready to give their lover anything he wanted, someone who would do anything for him and ask nothing in return.

Then Draco wondered if he was using Harry. Considering boy's naiveté and lack of experience, he probably was. Harry didn't know the rules. He didn't know his own worth and he didn't really know Draco or didn't understand. But as his father used to say… sod Lucius. But he hadn't promised Harry anything. If the boy didn't grasp realities of live it was not Draco's fault. Besides the fact that Harry was unaware of those realities was what made him so attractive.

Draco glanced at his lover and decided not to think too hard and better enjoy the moment.

"I liked your present," Draco smiled and looked at Harry.

"Oh, the portrait," Harry blushed and hung his head. "I am glad, that… if you liked it."

"Of course I did," Draco felt like he needed to reassure his painfully modest lover. He reached out and put a hand on Harry's thigh reassuringly. "It was perfect. I didn't know you were **that** talented."

"I don't know if I am talented," Harry mumbled. "I have a scholarship though. I would never be able to go to the college if I had to pay. I'd be still living with the Dursleys, probably…"

"Those people," Draco fumed. "I can't believe they would treat a family member like that! That Dooley or what was his name, he is lucky that I haven't run into him recently. The prick! The last time when I saw him, I didn't really have time to sort him out, but he certainly deserved that…"

"Please, Draco," Harry interrupted him. "Forget about it, Ok? They were not that bad, they were feeding me, gave me clothes to wear and I had my own room." At least since he was about ten years old.

"You are very forgiving, aren't you?" Draco suddenly didn't feel comfortable, thinking about the fact that he also had things he should beg forgiveness for. He still wasn't sure if he should feel guilty, because guilt was not something Draco was used to feeling. But…

"I think you are **too** forgiving," he concluded. Malfoys didn't forgive. They pretended if it was beneficial. And then stabbed in the back. Draco mentally snorted. Lucius had implanted loads of crap in his mind since he was just a kid. Daddy wanted him to be a proper Malfoy.

Harry didn't answer anything to that. It had sounded like reproach, but the boy was not used to objecting as someone was criticising him. It had never been his place. What else could he do, but endure and forgive? Harry wished he could forget, but that was something else entirely.

Draco looked at his lover, gnawing on his lip in obvious distress and rubbed his palm against Harry's thigh soothingly: "Don't mind me, I didn't mean it like that, Ok?"

Harry simply nodded.

"How was your holiday?" The dark-haired teenager suddenly decided to change the topic, which happened very often, when they talked about the Dursleys, but Draco pretended not to notice. In his family and surroundings people learned not to pry. If someone didn't want to share information, one let it rest or did 'an independent research', if spying on someone could be called that. But the problem was that the trip was something he didn't really want to talk about.

"It was fine," the blonde offered. "I like skiing. Father gave me some shares for Christmas. Not many, but still. It's a step towards independency, so to say; the bastard wants to show that he trusts me."

"You shouldn't call your father names, and it must be a good thing that he trusts you," Harry put in.

"Harry," Draco smiled at his boy sadly as if he was dealing with a child who didn't really understand life which was true on many levels. "If I am calling my daddy dearest names, believe me, he deserves them. And for his trust – he trusts only those who he thinks he has completely under his thumb. But let's talk about something else."

"Well, Ok, then," Harry agreed. Draco decided that it was one more thing he liked about his little lover; the boy never pried, Harry didn't want to know his little dirty secrets to control him, he never caused scenes, didn't demand answers. It made things easier. The easiness of the relationship was probably why Draco still kept Harry around.

"Look what I got for Christmas," the younger man exclaimed enthusiastically. "Mrs. Weasley knitted me a sweater!" Harry opened his jacket and revealed an emerald green sweater with a large, golden 'H' in front of it.

Draco was not sure if he should laugh or cry, but Mrs. Weasley was someone Harry held in high regard, so Draco decided to hold his tongue this one time: "It matches your eyes." He commented.

"You don't like it, right?" Harry came to the conclusion, but he was not angry. "Don't worry; I will let you to take it off me," he promised cheekily.

"I guess you know me very well, don't you?" Draco smirked. He had noted that Harry had grown bolder since they were together.

"A bit, maybe…"

"The strange thing is that it's kind of turning me on,"

"As if there is something that isn't," Harry snorted.

"With you involved… well I guess there really isn't much what's not turning me on," Draco looked at his lover as he stopped the car. "And on that note – we are here."

"How convenient…"

"Yes, indeed,"

"I am not a girl, Draco," Harry grumbled when the blonde opened the car door for him.

"Really? I will have to check for myself," Draco laughed as Harry rolled his eyes at the lewd comment. Harry was his partner and the Malfoy heir was too well trained to be a gentleman hence the boy had to 'suffer' the courtesy in full.

They almost ran past the doorkeeper.

As soon as both men were in the lift, Draco had Harry against the wall even before the door closed; his tongue was deep down his lover's throat and hand under the obnoxious sweater which he had mentally already disposed off.

Draco almost carried Harry into the apartment not stopping the kissing and groping. His hands wanted to be everywhere at the same times. His mouth couldn't decide if it preferred the mouth, nipples or the perfect cock. Draco would have never imagined that he would want to suck another man's cock or find it beautiful. But Harry was not another man, he was Harry and everything about him was beautiful to Draco. And who was he to say 'no' when the boy moaned and begged so beautifully. Who could have imagined that someone so timid and shy would be so wild and wanton in the bed?

Draco had missed Harry Potter so much.

"I have a present for you," Draco informed the boy who was lying on the bed next to him naked and sated with head on blonde's broad shoulder.

"You already gave me a present," Harry protested. "And I liked it very much, thank you, by the way."

"That was a Christmas present, this is just a present. Besides it is not for your enjoyment only," the blonde man explained playing with a wavy lock of dark hair.

"Oh," Harry had no idea what it could be, but he was too lazy to be curious.

Like a kitten, lazy and warm, almost purring Draco thought.

"I guess I will have to make you a cup of very strong coffee before I return you to that foster family of yours or they will think that you are on drugs, or, God forbid, having too much sex…"

"I am not sure which would be worse…" the boy shuddered, disturbed by the fact that Mrs. Weasley could find out about his private life. "And whose fault that would be?" Harry tried to sound annoyed, but the fact that he was grinning kind of ruined his efforts.

"Yours of course for being so irresistible," Draco announced. He pecked Harry on his cheek as he got out of the bed, pulled on a pair of boxers and padded to the kitchen. A couple of minutes later he returned with two steaming cups of coffee.

Harry sniffed at the black liquid.

"I know you don't like it, but there is a plenty of sugar, think of it as a medicine," Draco smirked.

After they had finished the coffee, Draco reached below the bed and got a flat box from under it and then another one.

"Your present," he stated.

Harry eyed the box suspiciously: "You shouldn't have…"

"Nonsense,"

As the boy opened the first box, his eyebrows shot up in surprise: "Mmm, Draco? What does this mean?"

"Can't you guess?" The blonde smirked.

"No, I mean, yes, I can guess, but, no, I don't want to, really," Harry protested fervently. "You wan me to… no, Draco, that's ridiculous, I don't want to."

Draco smiled at is lover almost sweetly which was kind of scary and looked at him not exactly pleadingly, but there was something in his eyes what made the boy feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"I don't see what the big deal is considering that it wouldn't be the first time," the blonde argued. "Besides I am asking you to do it. For me. It will be fun, trust me."

Harry sighed. For some reason he was not sure if it was such a good idea. But Draco was making something akin to a puppy eyes and kissing his neck.

"Ok, Draco," he groaned. "If it's so important."

"Of course it is, thank you," the blonde smirked. He just loved to have his way.

Harry unlocked his cell phone and dialled the number.

"Hullo," a dreamy voice greeted him.

"Hi, Luna, it's me, Harry," the boy greeted.

"Oh, hi, Harry, what's up!"

"Nothing much, Luna," he replied, but then… it was not completely true. "Well, actually something is up and I need you to do me a favour."

"Ok, I don't see why not, whatever you need, Harry," the girl offered.

"You know, you should find out what I want first, I am not sure if you are going to like it, I myself don't like what I am going to do…" Harry rambled nervously.

"What is it? Now I am really curious,"

"I need you to lie for me," the boy stated insecurely.

"Ah,"

"No, actually, it's me who is going to do the lying, but I need you to cover for me," the boy sighed.

"Ok, Harry, what is the big deal then? You are not in trouble, are you?" The girl even sounded a bit worried.

"No, not exactly, I just need to spend a night outside and I don't want Weasleys to know where I am going to spend it, so I thought that I could call and tell them that I am working on a project with you or something and we haven't finished and so I will be sleeping on your couch," Harry admitted.

"Aha, I knew you were in love with someone. Good plan, by the way. I still don't understand why you are hiding your lover though, your family would be happy for you," Luna drawled. "But having a secret affair is probably more exciting, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry agreed even if not completely.

"I am happy for you Harry, by the way," she added. "And I am going to help you, it's not lying anyway, it is a conspiracy."

"Ok, ok," Harry laughed. "Thanks Luna, it's really important, I wouldn't ask you if it weren't…"

"Of course, I know Harry; see you after the holiday,"

Harry put away the phone and grinned at his lover on whose lap he was sitting: "It was easier than I thought."

"Oh, really?" Draco smirked. It turned out that his boy was capable of scheming.

"I know it's not good, I mean lying, but I don't have a choice, I guess…" he looked at the older man for confirmation.

"Mmm," Draco purred kissing Harry's neck. He didn't see what the big deal was. "And how does this being not good make you feel?"

"I guess I am feeling worried and guilty," Harry admitted. "And wicked…"

Draco snorted. He, himself sometimes doubted that he had a consciousness at all, but the boy was uneasy about such a small thing.

"Ok, my wicked one," the blonde pecked the smaller boy on his cheek and pushed him off his lap. "Right now it's time for you to go home."

Harry just sighed somewhat sadly. He was lying to people around him deliberately, not only withholding some facts. But he had to if he wanted to spend time with Draco.

That night when Harry came home he felt very guilty. He hadn't done anything bad yet, but he knew that he was going to and it stung.

"Damn it, Harry," Ron looked up from his football magazine. "I don't understand you! It's cold outside. Do you really enjoy it?"

"Yes, Ron, I do, I did a couple of sketches too," here, Harry was lying again. He had told everyone that he was going for a walk. In the end of December! Sometimes he really whished to just come clean about everything, maybe even bring Draco home and introduce to everyone. He hated this sneaking around.

"Ok, mate, but let's go get you a cup of tea, Ok?" The redhead offered. "Ginny is planning a Monopoly night, so be warned, she will try to 'recruit' you."

Well, Harry actually liked Monopoly. He hadn't had a chance to get fed up with it while growing up. Dursleys hadn't invited him to have family time together. So Harry smiled at his friend.

"Traitor," Ron groaned and threw a pillow at the other boy who just laughed.

Two days later Harry stood in front of the mirror, looked at himself and sighed. Obviously people just couldn't resist temptation and kept forcing him into women's clothing. And this time it was really something. The dress was very light pink, almost white, with a tight bodice and full skirt. Harry had complained, naturally, but Draco had argued that pink looked good with pale skin, dark hair and green eyes and he was being nice, because he was not making Harry to wear high heels.

But the dress was pink! Pink was the most girly colour ever. And there was something terribly childish about it. Harry knew that he was quite young, but it didn't feel right to emphasize it. Besides, he looked too much like a real woman, it was so fucking weird!

Draco leaned over his boyfriend and kissed him on the shoulder which was left bare by the dress: "You look like a doll, my darlin' and so young, I am afraid that I will get arrested for seduction of underage."

"I am only seventeen, Draco. And I look thirteen. But if you should get arrested then for torture. I am not really into wearing dresses," the boy fumed. "It is a huge, bloody misconception."

"But you look delicious, so cute," the blonde proceeded trailing kisses up boys neck until he reached the chin. "My sweet candy," he should be disgusted with himself for all the sappiness, but somehow it didn't matter.

"Shu!" Harry batted away his lover's persistent lips. "If you keep this up, you are going to ruin my makeup and hair and I have no idea how to put it on." It was true, Draco had hired a cosmetician to get Harry ready for the party and it had been not only embarrassing, but also complicated process.

"Excuses, excuses, I will only ruin the lipstick and you are soon to become an artist, don't tell me you are incapable of putting some colour back on your lips," with that Draco proceeded doing as he had promised.

Harry tried to object, but then Draco's soft lips and tongue made him to forget what he had wanted to say. Only when the dark-hired teen felt his back hitting the wall and a hand creeping under his skirt in the direction of his butt, Harry pushed the blond maniac away.

"Draco," he breathed out. "If we are going to that party of yours then we should leave now or we won't. Don't you think?"

For a moment Draco looked as if he didn't really agree, but then he sighed, stepped back and straightened his deep red shirt, got Harry's dark red, almost black cloak and helped him to put it on. Harry stroke the material, it was so fine, he had never had anything so nice.

Then Draco kissed the boy on his temple: "Let's go now."

While they were riding in the car, Harry was very nervous; he couldn't believe that he had agreed to go to this party with his boyfriend, as he called Draco to himself. What if they ran into someone who knew them? What if someone noticed that he was no fair maiden, which would be so embarrassing.

But as he was looking out of the car window, he got even more nervous than before. He had suspicions, but it couldn't be right, there was no way, Draco couldn't do something like that to him.

But obviously…

"Draco!" The boy almost squeaked. "Draco, you, you, you…"

The older man smirked smugly.

"Damn it Draco! It is your house! The party is at your house! Are you out of your mind? You make me wear dress and take to your house! Don't dare to tell me that your parents are going to be there!"

"Of course, they are the ones who are hosting the party," the blonde answered remaining perfectly calm. "It is a tradition. Our family always have this gathering a couple of days before The New Years Eve."

"And what are they going to say about me? They don't even know me!"

"I hope nothing," Draco replied. "They usually don't pay any attention to my girlfriends, so I think that you will be more or less safe. Just stand besides me and look pretty."

Harry didn't like a sound of that. 'Just stand besides me and look pretty' – somehow it sounded very wrong and made something twist in his gut.

"Why didn't you tell me something?" A warning could have been nice.

"Because I didn't want to worry you beforehand," Draco explained patiently.

"Of course, you were thinking about me only… Draco, why!"

The Malfoy heir stopped his car in the garage next to several others as exclusive and most certainly expensive as the one which he was driving and looked his companion in the eye: "Because I wanted to go out with you and why not?" And then he kissed Harry's pouty lips gently enough not to ruin the lipstick for the second time. "And you look damn hot in drag," he whispered on boy's ear. "It's very hard to keep my hands off you."

Harry's cheeks coloured.

Still, he couldn't help it. All this made him feel… sad? Disappointed? As if something was terribly wrong. It was not him who was going out with Draco; it was this, this girl in a pretty pink dress, the one who was not even real. Did Draco like her better? It was ridiculous; someone like Draco would never be with someone he didn't want to be with… but… but there was a persistent, ugly 'but' somewhere nagging him.

Harry didn't have energy to object and argue anymore as Draco helped him out of the car. They used the back door since Draco had decided not to make a grand entrance. They were going to attract enough attention anyway, considering who he was and how unusually beautiful Harry looked in a dress.

Draco threw his jacket and Harry's cloak to the first servant he saw and ordered to take care of it. Then he proceeded to pull quite reluctant Harry after him.

They stopped by the main door which led to the ballroom. Malfoys had hired two men to act as lackeys and open the spectacular doors for the guests. Harry was not surprised that they showed off this way. But complaining was rather hypocritical since he was quite taken with the younger Malfoy who had manners of a young aristocrat, not that Harry Potter had ever seen one, but…

"So, Harriet," Draco took Harry by his hand. "Are you ready to make the grand entrance?"

"What if I say, no?" The boy grimaced.

"Let's go," Draco smirked and waved to the butlers who opened the door.

Then they walked inside.

"Ok," Draco whispered on Harry's ear. "First we should go and say hello to mommy and daddy." He led his companion through the hall ignoring the curious gazes and looking for his mother. And there she was chatting away with Mrs. Zabini, Celina Nott and Peony Parkinson.

Harry decided that those women were very beautiful, their figures slim, skin, hair and gowns – everything was perfect. They had very small almost miniature handbags and were wearing a lots of jewellery with shiny stones which were probably real and each worth more than the Weasleys' house. But… they were talking and laughing too loud, they were too… everything. They were stunning, but all that 'stunningness' was a bit overwhelming. Those hairdos were a tad too perfect, those sparkling smiles didn't quite reach their eyes and there was something plastic about their youthfulness.

They reminded Harry of his aunt, only rich and beautiful.

Those high society women were kind of scary. So perfect, polished and clean – they were giving Harry creeps.

"Mother, may I interrupt you?" Draco gently laid his hand on Narcissa's arm.

"Oh, mon cher, you are here finally," the woman turned around to kiss her son on both cheeks and glance at Harry.

"Wouldn't miss it for nothing in the world," Draco was obviously sarcastic, but no one bat an eyelid.

"Mrs. Zabini, Mrs. Nott, Mrs. Parkinson," he greeted. "Mother, ladies, it's my pleasure to introduce you, this is Harriet."

Harry thought that his lover sounded almost smug, as if Draco was proud to show him off. It was not far from truth, but the Malfoy heir was most pleased about the fact that he could fool everyone with his new girlfriend. Besides Draco couldn't introduce parents to his boyfriend anyway. Most of the people here were still living in the past century – old farts and bigots.

Draco wanted to sneer as all the women instantly turned their attention to Harry like a pride of wolfs, no werewolves, he corrected himself.

"Mhm, of course," Narcissa dismissed her son's girlfriend as unimportant. For her she was just 'one of' Draco's girlfriends so learning her name was a waste of time since those girls didn't last.

The girl was slightly different from the ones she had seen before, less flashy and sluttish probably, but that most likely didn't mean anything. Narcissa and Peony Parkinson had already decided that Draco was young and needed to have his fun and he could marry Pansy anytime. She would have to use Lucius's influence over their son, but that was nothing impossible. They would have so lovely blond grandchildren.

Draco graced the ladies with one more of his charming smiles and was already leading his partner away.

"I told you that they are not going to bother you too much, my parent's don't care who I am dating as long as I don't intend getting married," Draco explained pragmatically and put his hand around his lover's waist and gently guided him towards one of the tables.

'Getting married', of course not. Harry understood that they were not going to get married, they obviously couldn't, but despite everything he felt a pang of regret in his heart when he had to acknowledge that. But Harry was used to not getting what he wanted, so that was all fine.

"I think we should have some champagne," the blonde suggested unaware of his lover's musings.

"Seventeen here, Draco!" Harry objected.

"Oh come on, have you ever tasted any champagne?"

Harry shook his head. Ron had promised that they would drink some on the New Years Eve, which was two days from now.

"See, you absolutely have to try some…"

"Look who's here," a familiar voice was suddenly heard behind their backs.

Harry was startled and spun around as if someone had struck him. Draco naturally was more graceful and acted as if nothing was wrong.

"Blaise," he greeted flashing his friend a perfect, charming and fake smile.

Harry didn't know what to say; he was somewhat wary of his lover's best friend and he knew that the man didn't like him. Besides Blaise Zabini knew exactly who Harry was. What if he told everyone?

"Draco," the blonde beamed at his friend pretending not to see his companion. "A very nice party, don't you think?"

"As nice as it is every year," Draco replied not really keen to deal with his friend at the moment.

"Oh, but you have your private entertainment with you, right?" Blaise shot Harry a dirty look making him even more uneasy if that was possible and made his cheeks burn. "But, that's also something you have every year," he smirked seeing how uncomfortable Potter was.

Draco was not going to answer that. Recently he had a feeling that Zabini didn't like his lover. Touché, since he didn't need Blaise's approval and it was him who had suggested it in the first place.

"Oh, but it's really a fine idea to bring your little 'girlfriend'. When are you announcing the engagement?" Zabini just couldn't let go

Draco rolled his eyes: "Don't mind Zabini, he is just jealous that you look better in a frock. He's never had legs for it."

Harry was starting to get suspicious that Blaise was really jealous, but it had nothing to do with his dress. It made him feel strange. Possessive, uneasy and also sorry for the other man.

Blaise was really good looking, his hair was golden blond and wavy, eyes blue and he looked tanned as if the guy been spending his free time on some exotic island or something, not in the Britain. Only there was still something ugly about him, something that had nothing to do with appearance. Harry thought it was Zabini's sneakiness. He was slippery, like a snake, the teenager decided. Pretty to watch from afar, but not trustworthy enough to get closer, no one could know when it would bite.

Harry shuddered at the thought and smiled when Draco put an arm around his shoulders and whispered on his ear: "Lets get that champagne, it will warm you up a bit. Enjoy yourself." He dismissed Blaise.

On the other side of the ballroom two men were watching the young couple.

"Your son has a strange, but good taste, Lucius," the dark-haired man commented looking slightly amused by what he saw.

"Yes, indeed," the elder Malfoy agreed studying his son's date. "I must say that I am surprised. She is really different from all the girls he usually picks up. This one doesn't look like she is being paid for a change. A little, pretty doll, isn't she? Didn't know that there were young ladies like that these days. What worries me is that she looks barely legal." Lucius smirked letting his eyes roam over the lithe body hungrily. "I hope she is legal. My son can be reckless sometimes."

"Oh, but Lucius," Tom Marvolo Riddle gave a laugh. "The thing is that the little, pretty lady is not a girl at all. Don't tell me you didn't notice?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow: "No way, Draco is straight as an arrow… impossible!" The blonde almost exclaimed.

"It's a very pretty boy, my friend, believe me," Riddle smirked. "There is one thing a man can't hide – it's his Adam's apple. The boy is slender; you can see it very well, my friend."

Lucius chuckled: "You are very observant, Tom. But Draco got me this time; this is something I didn't expect. But I don't really mind; as long as no one suspects anything, my son can entertain himself as he wishes." The man sipped from his glass watching his son and his companion with amusement.

"I don't think anyone will notice, people see what they want to see after all and the young man is perfect in every sense, quite a catch. I must say that gender doesn't really matters when someone is that striking," dark blue eyes studied both young men carefully.

"You think so?" Lucius looked inquiringly at the other man.

"Yes, Lucius, that is exactly what I think," Tom Marvolo Riddle approved.

"I guess I will have to get myself introduced to the little, pretty flower," the blonde smirked.

"Enjoy yourself, my friend," Riddle smirked.

"I wouldn't dare," Lucius answered with a similar expression.

Draco was trying to convince Harry that they should dance when someone approached them. When the teenager noticed the man strolling in their direction he had to fight a wish to hide behind his lover's back.

The man was tall; maybe even a couple of inches above Draco, very pale, with strict dark brows, dark hair and unforgiving, severe black eyes. He was wearing a black suit, which reminded Harry of a priests clothes or something like that and a black shirt and tie, but his hair and eyes were probably even darker.

Man's nose was way too big for any face, even if it strangely suited him, if someone would ask Harry would call it a patrician nose; the boy had associations with antique art, with great Roman politics.

The dark man looked angry. Harry had a feeling that he was coming to him to scold or berate him about all his shortcomings. Only Draco's hand on his waist kept Harry from running and hiding under one of the tables.

As expected the man stopped in front of the couple, it turned out that he was not really taller than Draco, but he could still look down at Harry and was doing exactly that, the black eyes bore into him and the boy had a feeling that the man had some kind of x-ray vision and could see right through him. And what he saw were faults.

"Draco," he finally greeted, still glaring at Harry disapprovingly.

"Hello, Severus, how are you doing?" The blonde was apparently not only familiar with the newcomer, but also completely at ease in his company.

Instead of answering the man only sneered.

Draco pretended not to notice anything and went on: "Harriet, this is my godfather Severus Snape. Don't mind him, he is a grouch, but it's nothing personal. He is rude to everyone. Severus, this is Harriet."

Harry assumed that the man had noticed him since he had been staring down at the boy all the time, but he didn't greet him as if letting the boy know that he was beyond notice. Harry suddenly felt a surge of irritation and anger. Snape had no reason to disrespect him so.

"A word with you Draco," the dark-hired man demanded.

"Yes, Severus," Draco sounded amused.

"In private," Snape insisted.

Draco looked at Harry apologetically, but the boy just nodded.

"I will be back in a minute, Ok," the blonde brushed his palm against boy's cheek tenderly and followed his godfather to the side of the room where they could have some privacy.

"So, what's the matter, Severus?"

"What's the matter?" Snape shot his godson an incredulous look. "How old actually is that girl?"

The blonde rolled his eyes at the older man who was also his godfather: "Seventeen, Severus."

"A bit young, don't you think? And looks a lot younger. Do you think it's wise? People talk whenever they have chance and you are giving them reasons all the time," Snape chided.

"Another lecture about morality?" Draco almost groaned.

"Not really, morality is not something one can afford to be saddled with in my field of work," Snape sneered. "The lecture is about appearances. I am just warning you…"

"Come on, Severus! Have you ever liked any of my girlfriends?"

"No, I haven't, you have as terrible taste as your father," Snape sneered. "And she reminds me of someone, and I don't like it."

"Oh, really? Of who?" The blonde challenged. It was no secret that his godfather was simply paranoid.

"I don't know, Draco, I can't recall where I had seen her yet, but considering who I associate with, it can't be good,"

Draco chuckled: "last time I checked you were working with the richest and most influential families this country."

"Your point?"

Draco sighed, there was no point to argue about some things and with some people: "Believe me, she is the most harmless of the women I have ever dated,"

"That means she is pretending to be harmless and then one day shows up with a positive pregnancy test and asks for child support,"

Draco almost chocked on his drink: "You don't have to worry about that."

"You are careless, Draco, don't try to deny it," the dark man warned dismissively.

"Oh, whatever, Severus, I will be going now, Ok? I have someone waiting for me, enjoy yourself," and with that Draco started crossing the room to return to his lover who looked utterly lost standing there alone.

But someone stopped him on the way.

"Father," Draco smiled at the elder Malfoy.

"Draco, son, you were late," the man noted sternly as if he really cared.

"I had to pick up my date," Draco replied raising an eyebrow at his father asking him get to the point and say what he really wanted to say.

"Of course, I guess I will have to forgive you then. You have a very interesting young lady there," Lucius let his eyes roam over Harry's body.

Draco narrowed his eyes, he didn't like the way his father was looking at his lover. It was not the first time; Draco knew that his father had had some of the women Draco had slept with, but Harry was quite different.

"You wanted something, father?" The younger blonde inquired politely, but impatiently.

"Nothing much, my son, I just wanted to know how my son is doing like any concerned father," the man smirked.

'Concerned, my ass!' Draco thought to himself, but kept his mask in place. He had no idea what his father wanted yet. The man was acting strange, toying with him.

"So," Lucius continued. "Were you going to introduce me to your companion for tonight? Or it's not for tonight only…" the man drawled. "Is it the one who you obviously missed so much during our stay in Italy?" The man finished on more serious note.

Draco pursued his lips and didn't say anything. He didn't like where it was going. Whatever reason for prying Lucius had, it couldn't be anything good. Even if it was not bad, it was annoying and the younger Malfoy had no desire to indulge his parent.

"Draco, my son," Lucius's expression turned kind again. "No need to gat defensive. Have I ever forbidden you anything?"

The younger blonde shook his head.

"That's right, I haven't," Lucius smiled kindly. "You can have your fun, whatever it is. As long as you are discreet, of course. And, while what you did tonight can't be considered discreet, I excuse you, since no one noticed anything, except Mr Riddle of course,"

Draco had to control himself not to reveal what he really thought of Tom Marvolo Riddle – the man was certainly Draco's least favourite of his father's associates. Something about him didn't bode well with the Malfoy heir.

"By the way," Lucius went on. "Your whore is really charming. Where did you find him?"

"He is not a whore," Draco hissed back automatically and instantly regretted it, seeing his father's displeasure. Not everyone would have noticed, but he was used to it and could read Lucius Malfoy very well. It was unwise to upset the man for nothing or show how much he cared, but Draco's reaction had been instinctive and it was too late to take it back now.

"And how do you call a man who gets on his knees for another man. I assume it is exactly like that, if I suspected that it was another way around I would have disowned you, my son," the man laughed and Draco started feeling slightly ill, sometimes father really disgusted him.

Yes it was true, he was the on who wanted to be at the charge and he was not going to change that, besides Harry didn't mind. But when his father put it like that…

"Is there anything else you wanted father?" Draco was not enjoying the conversation and he wanted to get away from it, the sooner, the better.

"Impatient are you? Don't forget that you are a Malfoy, Draco," all the fake pleasantness had vanished from Lucius's voice and a warning was all what was left.

"Have I ever?"

"Not until now,"

Finally, Draco wanted to say as he was apparently dismissed.

"Oh, and Draco," his father's voice made the blonde stop and look back. "If you tire of him I would fancy a go." Malfoy senior didn't miss the way his son's back tensed up.

Lucius was not smiling as he watched Draco walking back to where he had left his lover through narrowed eyes.

Harry let out the breath he was holding when Draco finally returned to his side. He was standing there alone, not knowing where to put his hands. He could feel curious eyes on himself. Besides, the boy could swear that the dark-hired man – Severus Snape – was still glaring at him.

But when Harry looked in his lover's face, he didn't feel as relieved anymore. Draco looked as if someone had stabbed him in the back and rubbed some salt in the wound.

"Draco, is something wrong?" Harry asked wondering if he should be concerned.

"It's nothing to worry your little pretty head with," Draco snapped.

Harry looked down feeling like a kicked puppy. The blonde ignored him – he was not in the mood and patience for his lover's sensibilities. But five seconds later Draco put one of his hands on boy's neck and cupped his cheek with another and lifted up the face which was the most beautiful he had ever seen and looked in the large green eyes.

"It was nothing important, Harry, forget about it" Draco didn't even try to smile.

Harry nodded and the blonde was assured that he had accepted the apology which had been hidden somewhere under the meaningless words.

Draco wished he could tell Harry everything he felt. He wished he could tell him how much he hated Lucius sometimes and still loved him, because the bastard was his father and how hard it was to have father like that. He wished he could tell how he despised all those people around him, all the falseness, intrigues, rumours…

Why he had thought that coming to the party with Harry could be fun? All those people… Lora Avery had been looking at them from across the hall and Pansy, of course. They hadn't dared to approach them. Yet.

Harry was too different to fit in, to be comfortable. He was oblivious to the games those people were playing. What was he thinking? Why did he take Harry with him? What was he trying to prove – that they could be like any other couple? They probably could, but dressing Harry up as a girl was certainly not the right way to go about it. Draco suddenly felt disgusted with himself. Suddenly he felt like someone who fit in perfectly with those people, too well.

"Draco?" Harry put his hand on his lover's arm. He felt pain, something hurt inside him for Draco. He knew that there was something upsetting the man, there was shadow over him, even if he pretended that they didn't exist. Harry knew about pain, scars and shadows. He had his own.

Draco looked in the honest, brilliant green eyes. The absolute innocence and trust which he saw there made him feel guiltier than any accusations and hurt more. Draco reached out and run his fingers through the soft, dark hair tenderly. Damn, he could play with that hair for hours…

"Everything is fine," he lied. "Let's go. Let's just go somewhere nice."

As usually Harry just nodded and obediently followed his beloved.

Harry had no idea how many eyes were watching them. Draco however had his suspicions and tried not to swear. He had made a mistake and knew it.

If Blaise had another drink it would be one too much. So it was the right time to stop. At least for now. He had business to attend to. He had followed the blonde man out of the ball room, but not the one he usually followed.

He waited for a couple of minutes before knocking on the heavy oak door adorned with intricate woodcarvings. Malfoys were coming from old money and Lucius Malfoy liked to show it. The house was loaded with antiques and art objects symbolizing Malfoys' power. Maybe except Draco's room - it was almost Spartan comparing with the rest of the house. A bit of a rebel he was… Blaise smirked.

He pushed open the door and stepped in.

"Good evening, Blaise," Lucius turned to the door. "Is there anything I could help you with?"

"Yes, actually there is, Mr. Malfoy,"

"Surely you can call me Lucius, Blaise, I am not that old yet,"

Blaise agreed completely. Lucius Malfoy was not old, he didn't look old. The man was the same height as Draco only a bit stockier and his hair was longer and father's face was manlier when the son had higher cheekbones and fuller lips which probably came for Narcissa. They both had the same strong jaw though. Draco and Lucius were similar and very different at the same time. Still, they both were also exquisite in their own way.

Blaise realised that he was getting off the track.

"Ok, Lucius," he smiled. "Surely you can guess what I would like to talk about with you."

"Oh, really? How interesting," there was a glint in the grey eyes. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I saw you watching Draco tonight," Blaise smirked.

"You are smarter than I have given you credit for," Lucius nodded approvingly. "And my son is…" the older man was obviously not going to finish the sentence.

"Yes, Draco. I am worried about him," Blaise was encouraged enough to carry on. "I think he is going too far with his…" he grimaced.

"His toy?"

"I guess I would call him that if I wanted to be polite," Blaise sneered and Lucius laughed out. "Certainly that is a much nicer word than he deserves."

The older man just looked amused.

"But, really, Lucius," the youth looked at the man seriously. "He took the little slut to the party in your house. What if someone had noticed? I am wondering what he is going to do next. Get the brat an engagement ring?"

"Is it that serious?" Lucius frowned.

"Do you think I would bother you if it weren't? He is completely smitten. I know your son; he has never been like that before. I feel responsible, because it was me who suggested him to scratch if it's itching," Blaise sighed. "But I didn't suggest him to ruin his reputation. Your reputation."

"Mmm," Lucius hummed almost absentmindedly looking at his father's Abraxas' portrait which was hanging over the fireplace. "I always thought my son was straight. I don't mind if he is experimenting, rebelling or whatever young people call it these days. I understand. But he is a bit careless."

"Yes, indeed," Blaise agreed eagerly, he just loved where this was going. "He will do something stupid sooner or later and then he will regret it. As Draco's best friend, I can't let that happen. He is neglecting friends and family. You know I am right, you watched him tonight."

"Yes, Blaise, you are right," Lucius agreed. "And even if you weren't, it is better to be safe than sorry. I am sure you understand that the stakes are high. They always are."

Blaise nodded. He knew very well how men like his best friend's father thought. He was not going to become one of them; he was a different creature which craved pleasure more than power, but he saw men like Lucius Malfoy around his mother since very young years and knew a lot about them.

The Malfoy patriarch was deep in his own thoughts. He was the head of the family. Lucius was the one who let his son to have toys or didn't let. He couldn't care less who his son was banging, but it smelled of rebellion and that irked the Malfoy patriarch to no end. He was the one in control.

He could always wait till Draco got tired of the boy, but then, who knew what would happen? Draco had always been too emotional and it was not wise to wait until his son's emotions led to something. The society overall was not as prejudiced as when Lucius had been young, but his business partners were mostly his pears or older men and they were far from liberal. He didn't want a son who was openly queer, couldn't afford it. Lucius was not going to give someone a chance to blackmail him because of his son's indiscretion.

"You have my full support, Blaise," Lucius promised. "I think there is something we could do."

Blaise smiled contently.

Meanwhile Draco had already returned to the apartment with his Harry whom he had carried over the threshold on his arms like the first time when they had been there together. Harry had laughed brightly that it had lit something up in Draco and ache at the same time. Only this time he brought the boy straight to the bedroom and laid him in the middle of the bed.

Then he proceeded to undress the boy slowly and carefully starting with the shoes, and then rolling off the stockings. He placed a kiss on every bit of skin he uncovered, showered every inch of Harry's body with caresses. He was patient and gentle like never before. Draco knew that he was making up for something. Trying to say something. Something he couldn't find words for.

He wanted to hold to Harry, to cling to his lover every possible way imaginable. With his lips, his hands. He wanted… Draco was not sure what he wanted anymore and it scared him. Everything about this situation frightened him. It had started with a single, almost innocent kiss and turned into obsession which Draco hadn't been able to fight.

Draco had thought that he would be able to get over it after bedding the boy properly, but somehow it wasn't working. If Harry were a girl, he would be the one Draco hadn't minded to marry, since he was more tolerable than anyone he had met and Draco was aware that he would have to wed one day. But Harry was not a girl.

It was getting complicated. Draco wasn't sure what to do with the boy anymore. And then there was the fact that the dark-hired teenager was making him do things he had never done before, talk about things he didn't tell anyone, long for things which he had considered impossible. Draco hadn't felt so vulnerable ever.

He looked at Harry who was sleeping peaceful and oblivious next to him and felt guilty for some reason.

TBC

**AN:** Updated finally! You know, I don't always have time and inspiration to write, I wish I had, but I am warning you that sadly I am not the best author out there.

But you guys are really spoiling me with all the reviews. It makes me feel guilty for being lazy. So THANK YOU!

I am one of the unconfident writers, so when I think about all the expectations you have, it scares me. I hope you will still like the story when the next too chapters will come out, because things are going to happen.

But let me know if I get boring.

Review responses:

Cuteandnice: Harry will learn. I am all for character development.

thrnbrooke and srbjm and angelkitty77 and bookworm51485 and hotseek: You all mentioned Blaise in your reviews. I also think that Draco is not for Blaise, but I still feel a bit sorry for him. What I don't like about some writers is when they are trying to create a world which is completely black and white. It is like an American action movie – good guy, bad guy. No one cares 'why', no one is trying to look deeper. And the 'good guy' is allowed everything, because he is the 'good guy'.

I hope you understand what I mean.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title** : Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humor :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story. Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: No younger than teens

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing.

Chapter Eight 

Harry smiled looking around the room. He could swear by anything that he had never seen so many red-heads in the same place before. He wondered if he could make a wish now or something silly like that. There had to be something magical about it. But then, maybe being there with the Weasleys was probably more than he could wish for.

Harry was lucky that those people had accepted him and made him a part of this wonderful family in only about five months. He was just a poor orphan, no one special, he had nothing to give them, but Weasleys still wanted to have him there.

For the first time when Harry was really looking forward to the next year. He didn't share those thoughts with anyone; they didn't fit in the cheerful party atmosphere, but Harry had never had much to look forward to. A new year usually meant three hundred sixty five more days with Dursleys.

Usually on the last night of the year Harry was sitting alone in his room, listening to Dursleys celebrating or trying not to hear them. He had known that every next year would be similar to the previous. He had been used to being unloved, but sometimes it still had hurt so much.

Harry couldn't count all the festivities – Christmases, birthdays, New Year's Eves – which he had spent in his room crying. Or crying in the cupboard under the stairs before he had his own room. And missing his parents. Funny, but even if all of that was past, thinking about it still hurt. It was not that easy to forget.

Harry wondered what the Dursleys were doing right now. After the time when Dudley had sent him to that awful house and awful man and Draco had saved him, Harry's cousin hadn't bothered him. But the boy didn't really miss them, after they had thrown him out, why would he… a little smile pulled at his lips. For the first time he could say that he was sure, wherever the Dursleys were, Harry was having better time than they. He was happy. Simple like that.

Harry sipped on his champagne and decided to put all the sad thoughts aside. He had the Weasleys and Hermione and Luna and of course Draco. It was more than he had ever hoped for, a year ago he hadn't imagined that he could be so content.

Someone put a hand on his shoulder. Harry turned around and saw Ron smiling at him: "Hi, there."

"Hey, mate," the redhead's grin even widened. "Do you like the champagne?"

"It's the best I have ever had," Harry returned the smile. It was true. Yes, he had tried some at the party at Malfoys, but Harry had been so nervous that hadn't really paid attention to the drink. And it was the company that mattered anyway.

Harry wondered if it would be possible to have both Draco and the Weasleys together in the same room one day. The Malfoys and the Weasleys couldn't be more different. Like oil and water. Harry and Draco were like oil and water after all.

Draco… he wondered what his lover was doing…

Draco couldn't really say that he was enjoying the New Years party at Zabinis'. He was enduring.

It was always the same. Always the same faces, he wished they invited at least someone ugly once in a while. That would be refreshing. He had heard all the gossip, tried all the cocktails.

He had had enough of it already long time ago. But it was not like Draco had anything better to do. It was his parents or Blaise tonight. Harry would be preferable, but the boy was with his family. So Draco needed something to take his mind of his lover and the fact that he didn't have anything else, but green eyes and dark hair on his mind.

The same train of thoughts again. He had done a lot of thinking since the party at his house. Many things were bothering him and all of them could be put under the same title 'Harry'.

With every passing day Draco liked it less and less.

It was not healthy to have such obsession. It was turning into a weakness. Any weakness could be explored by someone and Harry Potter was turning from an indulgence into his weakness.

And what was worse Lucius knew about it or suspected. His father was not a fool and probably suspected that Draco was not as meek an obedient as the damn bastard wanted him to be. The perfect heir. Every day the youngest Malfoy was getting less and less inclined to follow daddy's lead.

The irony of the situation was that Lucius desired a son with a backbone, but that backbone had to bend for him. Draco was supposed to be strong and superior and make people grovel and still want to lick his father's boots. No matter that both were kind of contradicting.

There was no end to Daddy's ambitions. But there was end to Draco's patience and it was approaching. No wonder that sons sometimes killed their fathers. Draco wasn't planning a literal patricide, but he sometimes has almost irresistible desire to bang man's head against his ancestral desk to get all those ridiculous ideas, all those smart-arsed plans out of the blonde head. Sometimes Draco just hated his father.

On the New Year's Eve Draco decided to get pleasantly drunk and forget about everything that bothered him. Not a very hard task when someone placed a glass in his hand. The blonde looked up and smiled at his best friend.

"You are welcome," Blaise smirked happy to oblige.

Draco didn't really notice the expression, his usual astuteness and keen perception was dulled by the rum which was certainly his favourite. This was not the best one could get, but tonight it was about quantity, not quality.

He didn't see any reason to be wary. Oblivion was very welcome sometimes. No matter how it was achieved.

Ok, it mattered. Draco hadn't touched anything nastier than alcohol since he was sixteen. He had tried all kinds of drugs of course. It was inevitable in a city like London where everyone knew someone who is using or selling. It was inevitable when one had too much money to spend and the friends who were the same – rich and bored. What Draco hadn't expected was that his godfather Severus Snape would inevitably notice his dilated pupils and strange behaviour. And Severus had known how to threaten his godson – he had promised that he would stop any communication between them if he would see Draco 'wasting his life on such filth again'. That had done it.

The blond lifted his glass and took a sip. Rum was mindnumbling enough for him and Severus as usually had been right.

At first Draco didn't even notice when a warm body settled next to him on the couch pressing against his side. After gulping down the rest of his drink Draco glanced sideways where a slim tanned hand rested on his shoulder. The blonde raised his eyebrows questioningly and she smiled at him showing off perfectly even and white teeth. They reminded Draco of a string of his mother's pearls. One of the many. She had dark hair, like Harry. For a moment Draco wondered if he was still attracted to women and concluded that he was.

Why not? He thought.

Harry had missed Draco very much. They haven't seen each other for four days altogether and it was like an eternity as far as the seventeen years old boy was concerned. He had been ready (more like eager) to see the other man on the first of January, but Draco had refused, since he had had a terrible hangover with headache and everything, then he had been busy with something.

Harry hadn't preyed, but hoped that his lover was spending time with his family or friends. It was understandable, the boy realised that he couldn't have Draco for himself all the time. They b **both** /b had their own lives after all.

Yeah, Harry still wished they didn't have to part at all. It was silly and childish, but it was his dream. Draco had become very important to him.

Even if he never said it aloud, because the teenager was not sure what Draco's reaction would be, even if he was afraid to tell Weasleys anything at all, because he feared their rejection – no matter what, Harry knew that he was in love and he loved Draco Malfoy. And that was more important than anything. All those other things would be worked out in the end, of that he was sure.

Draco was sitting in his car and watching the boy trotting across the street, cheeks blazing red because of the cold and the longish hair fluttering in the wind. So uncouth by Malfoy standards, hiding behind godawful, oversized clothes, the little peasant, but so sweet and beautiful if one knew to look closer. And passionate and even wild, which probably not many knew, which Harry himself didn't fully comprehend and didn't understand in himself or was afraid of. And then there was vulnerability and a thin, but solid layer of sadness underlying it all. Draco had seen the beauty and tasted it. He knew how addictive it was.

Draco gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

"Damn it," he swore. It was so… he didn't even know how to describe it. Intense? Complicated? Confusing?

Harry opened the door and froze by seeing his lover's expression. Haunted, he thought, was the word: "Are you all right, Draco? Is something wrong?"

The blonde sighed inwardly. Now the boy was worried about b **him /b **. His eyes were so wide and full of honest concern.

"Don't worry, everything is fine," Draco tried to look reassuring and almost certainly failed. "Get in, it's cold outside."

Harry managed to smile weakly s he fastened the seatbelt still looking nervous.

"I am fine Harry, really, everything is all right," Draco wondered who he was trying to convince. Then he shook his head. This was ridiculous. What Harry didn't know couldn't hurt him. Well, he didn't know and understand a lot of things, but it was not Draco's fault that some people weren't introduced to unpleasant realities of life and didn't know how to be wary.

Besides no matter how infatuated he was and no matter how much he sometimes hated Lucius, Draco was still a Malfoy. Malfoys didn't make mistakes and didn't apologize for them. He did what he wanted and not even Harry Potter was going to change that.

Draco had to admit that it was not like Harry was trying to do anything like that. No, he was just sitting there, forgetting to fasten his seatbelt and looking at him adoringly with those soulful eyes.

The blonde simply increased speed, he didn't care about getting tickets, he could afford it. But he felt like he couldn't afford to loose time. The time he would rather spend kissing, petting, licking, sucking, shagging Harry Potter. For some reason Draco was afraid that sooner or later something was going to happen and he wouldn't have the privilege anymore. That was how things usually were.

Harry was standing by the shelf in the library, but instead of looking for the book he needed, the young man was looking out of the large window. The sky was grey and everything seemed gloomy. It was very likely going to rain. However Harry didn't feel depressed at all. He was smiling contently, perhaps even a bit dreamily. That was how he felt – content and maybe a bit happy and a bit like his every dream had become or was becoming true.

The last afternoon which he had spent with Draco had been just wonderful, amazing, mind-blowing. Harry was grinning like an idiot every time he remembered how Draco had smiled at him, how he had touched him and then he blushed wondering why he was still blushing after everything they had been doing together… with Draco the teenager had realised how vague his notion about sex had been.

He sighed and decided that he should pull himself together and do some actual work for his studies. That meant he had to stop thinking about a certain blonde, a certain man who had turned Harry Potter's world upside down.

The boy easily found the book he was looking for, pulled it out of the row and briskly paced back to his table.

Harry frowned when he discovered that while he had been gone someone had left a large, brown envelope on the top of his notebook. He looked around and didn't see anyone familiar around. Someone must have dropped it there while he was daydreaming. He shrugged and picked it up. 'Harry' – his world was neatly typed on the top of the package. So it was really for him, but then why didn't the mysterious 'postman' wait and give it him in person? Weird.

The boy frowned, sat down in his seat and tore the envelope open. Pictures. There were plenty of pictures and nothing more. But no words were needed. They were very expressive and there was possibly no way to misinterpret the message. Harry whished there was. He whished like he had never whished before. He almost dropped the pile as if it had suddenly gotten hot in his hands.

Harry didn't want to believe his eyes. He frantically sorted through the pile looking for something, something to explain, explain better, or not better, different, something that said that there was an explanation that what he saw wasn't really the way he saw it…

But there was nothing. Nothing to reassure him, nothing to leave a place for doubt. Why? Was his first thought.

He shoved the photographs back in the envelope; the boy just couldn't take looking at them anymore. His hands were shaking.

His chest felt so tight and his eyes were itching. Harry knew he was going to cry. Harry stuffed his notebook and the envelope in the bag and almost ran out of the library.

Harry ran outside in the cold and sat on the bench not far from the parking lot. He dig out the phone from his pocket and composed the message wiping the first stray tears away with his sleeve.

'Come to parking, am waiting. Important.'

He was not sure what he was going to do or say. Harry had no idea what was going to happen now. He couldn't think very clearly. But he had to do something. He couldn't just go home and pretend that nothing had happened, even if he wanted to. He wished he could just make it so that last twenty minutes hadn't happened. He had to see Draco. Maybe there was something he was missing, something he misunderstood.

Oh, God! Harry just wanted Draco to come and make it all better.

And there he was. Striding across the lawn. Tall. Slender. Immaculately dressed. Elegant. Making Harry feel so unworthy. Maybe that was the answer. How could he expect to be enough for someone like Draco?

It didn't take long till the blonde was standing in front of him with distant, unreadable expression on his face. Like a sheet of paper, blank and uncooperative, not giving anyone any advantage. It depended from the artist what he could coax out of it. it was an advantage to be unreadable and Malfoys strived on advantages.

Harry had preferred to see something, to be reassured. But Draco just stood there and Harry just sat on the bench staring at the older man.

It was very unnerving and atypically Draco was the first who broke the silence. "What's the matter?" He inquired.

Harry blinked; apparently Draco had pulled him out of whatever daze it had been. He just pulled the ragged bag in his lap and pulled a brown envelope out of it and handed it the other man. Numbness. That was what he was feeling. Denial.

Draco took the package and opened it without much thought. If Harry had given it him, then he obviously wanted Draco to see its content.

Harry watched his lover as the man sorted through the photographs. There was almost no visible reaction besides slight tightening of blonde's lips and narrowing of eyes but otherwise it was as if he didn't really care about what he was looking at. Harry only saw it, because he had often watched Draco, even more, the boy had studied and sketched his expressions.

Then Draco simply put the pictures back in the envelope and offered it to Harry who jumped up from the bench, away from the blonde.

"You want me to keep them?" Harry sounded as if he couldn't believe it. And it was true. He wanted Draco to say something. Anything. Not just…

"And what do you want me do with them?" The blonde smirked. It was a cold and cruel smirk, there was no amusement in it, such a smirk embodied all the cynicism the son of Lucius Malfoy had managed to accumulate in twenty two years. "I was there, Harry, I don't really need the pictures to remind me."

Harry suddenly felt very queasy. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that Draco could be so unabashed and mocking and just… this wasn't what he had expected to hear.

Yes, the pictures were very expressive. There was Draco and a woman, a beautiful woman. They were entering Draco's flat. Together. Close. Draco's arm around her waist. Then the other pictures were obviously shot through the windows. Draco kissing her, undressing her, they both by the bedroom door, the girl pressed against the wall Draco pulling off her dress, both vanishing in the bedroom. The bedroom window was on the other side. Harry knew that from personal experience after all. So there were no more pictures. But they were not necessary. After all why would someone kiss and undress and then go into the bedroom to play chess?

But Harry couldn't find his voice. He hadn't thought what would happen when he faced Draco. Harry had hoped that Draco would say something, make everything all right. Offer an explanation.

"What's the matter?" Draco's voice sharp and cold cut through Harry's chaotic musings. "Are you upset that I fucked someone else?"

Harry winced. That was too crude.

Draco sighed in exasperation as if Harry were suddenly acting unreasonable: "I never said I was going to be exclusive."

Harry looked up at the blonde his eyes shining as they were filling with tears he was desperately trying to hold back: "I thought… I never thought that… oh, bugger… " Harry was not sure what to say. What could he say about all of it. it was like he was standing on the edge of an abyss realising that someone who was dear to him, whom he had trusted without doubt, whom he loved desperately was going to push him, let him fall and then walk away never even looking back.

Draco sneered in a way that made Harry's stomach churn: "I doubt I even want to know in what kind of silly fantasy world you are living."

Harry just didn't understand. Why was Draco suddenly saying all those cruel things? Harry had expected him to apologize, say he was sorry, explain and then maybe he could forgive the man he loved so much. A part of him new how pitiful it was – trying to excuse Draco, keep him no matter what the cost was. Even his dignity. But the blonde wasn't letting him.

"Does what we have mean nothing to you?" He asked, even if he didn't want to hear the answer.

"And what exactly is that? We are fucking, Potter," there was almost a malicious edge to Draco's voice as if he really wanted to hurt Harry. Not only stab him in the chest, but also twist the knife. "We have a lot of fun together. What else do you think we have?"

The dark-hired boy turned his head away as if he had been slapped and that was about how he was feeling. He took a deep breath.

"I thought that there was something more, that what we shared wasn't just… just the bed…"

Draco stuck his hands in pockets: "You are as naïve as I thought then. It's time for you to grow up. You know, I am really doing you a favour, you need to face some realities of life sooner or later."

Harry stood up and looked Draco in the eyes trying to see something there, something to hold on, pleading for mercy: "Please, stop, why you are like this?"

"This is who I am, Potter," the blonde ground out coldly. "Didn't you ever wondered? Haven't you heard what people say about me? Well it's truth."

"My name is Harry!" The boy shouted.

Draco had never seen his lover really angry, he had almost thought that it was impossible, but now obviously he had lost his temper. A part of him was pleased, because it was a sight worth seeing, but another part of him was snarling, asking how dared he.

"And I am Draco Malfoy," the blonde spat. "I call you whatever name I want."

Harry shook his head: "I don't… I don't recognize you anymore, Draco."

"Let's make something very clear," the older man had obviously lost his cool. "You think you know me better than I myself do? Fancy yourself in love with me or some of that tripe?" The taller man looked down at the boy who flinched. Anyone who wanted could read Harry like an open book.

"Oh, this is priceless, you really do. You should know that you don't know anything about me. You should just wake up and live in the real world. You have a pretty face and a nice ass and are very eager," Draco couldn't sound and look more mocking even if he tried. "If you want to complicate it then you should know that I don't care for that. Who did you think I was? What did you think was going to happen? Did you think that I was going to marry you and we would live happily ever after? Did you think you could change me? Make me a better person?"

Harry felt as if Draco had stabbed him in the heart. After the Dursleys he had thought that there was nothing that someone could say to hurt him anymore. Obviously the boy had been mistaken.

"Are you going to cry now?" Draco Malfoy obviously just couldn't get enough. Fairly typical for a Malfoy.

Harry looked up at the cruel bastard. He wanted nothing, but wipe that superior, haughty smirk of that perfect face. Anger swelled up inside him like a fire eager to burn everything in its way. Without giving it much thought the boy raised his arm and slapped Draco across the face with all his heart.

It was quite unexpected and Draco staggered almost loosing his balance. Harry watched with morbid fascination as the pale, elegant hand wiped blood of his mouth. They stared at each other for a moment; it was as if time had stopped. There was a flick of something in the cold, grey eyes, something like uncertainty or doubt. Harry didn't notice that since the tears has finally broken free running down pale cheeks and blurring his vision.

This was it. Harry couldn't take it anymore. He was not going to cry in front of Draco. He didn't want to be any more pathetic. Harry grabbed his bag, spun around and ran without looking back.

He knew that this was the breaking point. His rage was not there anymore and what had been left was hurt. It hurt so much! Harry wiped away his tears with his sleeve as he ran trying to get as far from Draco as possible.

When Harry was sure that Draco couldn't see him anymore, he stopped suddenly feeling very weak and broken. Then someone called his name and boy looked up… of course it was not Draco calling him, it was not… Harry saw Ron waving at him from where he was standing with Hermione and Luna across the lawn. He couldn't face them. Not know. He couldn't let them see him in such state.

"Well, well, isn't that my dear cousin? Haven't seen you for a while. Missed me?"

Harry spun around wishing he was hearing voices. He didn't want to see Dudley. Especially not now. But this was apparently one of those days.

"Leave me alone," the boy ground out with much more fervour than he had ever dared to show addressing his cousin.

"Oh, no," Dudley jeered. "That wouldn't be fun, Potter. You still owe me one, you know."

"I owe you nothing," Harry raised voice slightly and glared at his cousin, if looks could kill… damn it, he was suddenly feeling so bloody angry!

"Yes, you do, for that time when your arsehole boyfriend came at me. Whose fault was that?" His face had taken an unappealing shade of red.

Harry wanted to object that it was Dudley's own fault for being such a jerk, even if he had no idea what Draco had done to his cousin or when and why, but another voice interrupted him.

"What is going on here?" Ron's voice was hard as steel. "Harry doesn't have any boyfriends." The redhead knew enough about Dudley Dursley and all of it made him wish to give the prick a good thrashing.

"No, not anymore," Dudley grinned. "The rich boy must have gotten enough of what he wanted. Ehe, Potter? Or maybe you're not as good between sheets. Can't do anything properly, can you? Not even take it up your ass," he sniggered.

Harry didn't say anything. What could he say to that?

"What are you babbling about, moron?" Ron growled. Hermione and Luna were just watching the scene stunned their eye shifting from one boy to another.

Dudley looked pleased to have a chance to elaborate: "So he didn't really tell his little buddies anything? Didn't you know that the little freak was a queer?"

"There is nothing wrong with that!" Hermione huffed.

"And did you know who he was fucking?" Dudley looked triumphant. "You have certainly heard about Draco Malfoy, haven't you? Well until about five minutes ago Potter here was quite close with the rich boy. Weren't you Harry?"

"That is none of your fucking business!" Harry yelled.

"Touchy, aren't we?" Dudley couldn't get enough.

"I don't believe it!" Ron exclaimed. "Harry and Malfoy? You are crazy! No way in hell! Tell him Harry!"

Harry didn't wan to show his weakness, but tears were streaming down his cheeks betraying everything. He didn't have strength to deny it, he didn't see the point.

"Harry?" Ron repeated.

Harry shook his head, desperately trying not to sob. This was the worst nightmare he had ever had.

"He is telling the truth," the boy finally managed to get past his lips. Then knowing that he couldn't take it anymore, Harry turned his back on them and ran. Not listening to anyone who shouted after him.

Harry hadn't gotten far when Ron caught up with him.

"Harry," a large, heavy palm fell on boy's shoulder and made him turn around.

"It is true, then," Ron sounded as if he was announcing a death sentence.

Harry didn't answer; he wasn't even looking at Ron.

"Why, Harry? Why would you want someone like him? How could you Harry? Choose someone like him?" Ron suddenly shouted.

"I…"

"Damn it! You lied to us!"

"I didn't want you to hate me," Harry whispered dejectedly.

"Really and this was exactly the way to go about it! You are bloody brilliant!"

"Ron I'm so…" Harry didn't get to finish.

"You are sorry? Of course now you are sorry when he dumped you!"

"Ron, please…"

"I don't really want to hear it. There is nothing you can say, really, you bloody disgust me," the red-head turned around and stalked away leaving Harry alone on the side of the street. Ron had looked hurt and betrayed. Harry realised that his first and best friend might never forgive him.

"Where is Harry?" Was the first thing Hermione asked when red-faced, furious Ron came into view.

"Ron," the girl insisted.

"Why would I bloody care!" The red-head spat.

"Ron!" Hermione sounded indignant. Luna just stood there silent.

"Why would I care, Hermione after he… after he did that!"

Hermione pursued her lips: "And what did he do, Ron? What wrong did he do? Do you think that he asked Malfoy to walk all over him? Damn it, Ron, how can you say that! You know what Harry is like and it is obvious what Malfoy is like! How can you blame Harry! Who knows what he did or said Harry to get to him!"

"Harry didn't have to…" Ron tried to protest.

"Oh, Ron, you know how his family treated Harry, he's starved for affection, it can't be so hard to manipulate him, which someone like Draco Malfoy is probably too good at. Don't you see? Harry needs support no your unfounded scorn!"

"Unfounded!?" Ron was indignant.

"Yes, unfounded," Hermione sounded stern like Mrs. Weasley. "Stop looking so betrayed! He didn't betray you. Harry is as clueless as they come. He doesn't know that you have that big crush on him…"

"I don't!" Ron spluttered, this time his face reddened because of embarrassment, instead of anger.

"The Hell you don't! You are his best friend who yelled at him after Harry had already been hurt! Don't you understand! He doesn't understand your jealousy. And he didn't choose Malfoy over you. He had no idea what you were feeling. He is the one who had been hurt the most here! Draco Malfoy obviously seduced him, used him and now dumped him! He needs us, he needs you now!"

Ron hung his head in shame: "I am an idiot…"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Ron, Hermione," Luna suddenly spoke up. "Do you think it is a good idea to leave Harry alone right now?"

Ron paled.

The tall redhead was running down the street hoping that he had picked the right direction, or at least Hermione and Luna would find Harry, since they were looking into another direction. They had tried to call Harry, but he hadn't picked up the phone. He had called home trying not to worry mother too much. Ron was sure that she suspected something anyway. That was how his mum was, besides Ron was not a good liar, and being frantically worried didn't improve his skill.

Mum would never forgive him if something happened to Harry. Bollocks! Ron would never forgive himself. Ron couldn't believe that he had lashed out at his best friend. What had he been thinking? Obviously he hadn't.

Ron wished he could get hands on Malfoy and beat him into a bloody pulp. He had promised mother not to fight anymore, since he had been in a bit of trouble a couple of times because of the infamous Weasley temper, but certainly this was a special occasion wasn't it?

He was looking around helplessly. Then Ron noticed that there was a sign that informed that there was an entrance into a park. A park! A park is a perfect hideout; he decided and headed straight towards the trees. It was getting damn dark and it was cold outside, but the gate was still open. Ron wondered why they bothered to lock up parks in London at all since anyone could climb the fences.

The park was a small one, not very pretty and not too well tended. At least that was what Ron thought, but he didn't know much about parks and he didn't care at the moment anyway.

He almost missed Harry running through the park. Harry wasn't sitting on the bench; he was sitting in a crouch on the lawn behind it. Ron froze for a moment. Harry's head was bent on his knees and wisps of longish dark hair were falling around him like a curtain, hiding the teenager from the cruel world around him. The boy looked so small, miserable and vulnerable that Ron just wanted to take the boy in his arms and shelter against all of it.

"Harry," Ron exclaimed in a broken voice and fell on his knees next to the other boy. "Harry…" the red-head took the smaller boy in his arms completely ignoring all the resistance.

"God, you are so cold," Ron whispered standing up and pulling Harry with him. "God, Harry, I'm sorry, please, please forgive me I wasn't thinking, you know how I am. I'm sorry, I was selfish. Such an idiot." Ron pulled Harry even closer if it was possible and stroked the dark, feather soft hair which seemed as cold as the January air. "I'll call Hermione", she is worried and then we go home, all right. I'm sorry Harry; you can't imagine how much you mean to me. Let's go home."

He looked down at the pale face, the pouty lips opened slightly as if the boy wanted to say something, but no sound came from them.

"Please, Harry," Ron hugged the small body tighter. "Let's go home, it's alright, you are going to be alright…"

Harry nodded silently, his face buried in red-head's chest and let his best friend drag him home whispering things he later couldn't remember on his ear.

Draco couldn't believe that he had done it. He had gotten rid off Ha… Potter.

Well, his stinging lip was a good reminder, the coppery taste of blood in his mouth was making everything more real, but there was still something surreal about it. It was strange. As if a part of him refused to acknowledge that it hadn't been just a dream and he was not going to wake up next day and meet with the boy.

Draco felt his stomach tighten uncomfortably.

He wasn't upset. He was not supposed to be upset.

Well, maybe about the fact that Harry had surprised Draco with that slap. It was probably deserved in a way. Draco had been in a similar situation before, only he hadn't allowed any of his girlfriends hit him. Yes, it hurt his pride some. Blonde's tongue darted out and licked the wound. How strange. This was the first time when someone had spilled his blood and there was something thrilling about it. One traitorous part of his mind whispered that it was because Harry had been the one who did it.

Draco told it to shut up. He hadn't realised that he had a masochistic streak until now. Even if he did, there was no reason to explore it. And certainly not with Harry.

It should make him feel relieved. It had been getting too complicated. Their rela… or whatever they had, was bound to end sooner or later, Draco hadn't dated anyone longer than this anyway. This had been a good opportunity.

He had been angry enough that Harry had dared to ask him for explanations. Draco Malfoy did what he wanted, he wasn't sorry, he didn't let anyone demand anything from him there were enough people willing to take Harry's place anytime, if the brat insisted on becoming such a nuisance.

Yes, he had been a bit obsessed with Potter, but Draco had gotten everything he had wanted. It was a time to move on.

But somehow the feeling of relief wasn't coming.

Instead there was emptiness.

Draco decided to ignore it. It had been a bit messy after all and he wasn't completely inhuman despite Lucius's efforts. He could be a bit compassionate and feel sorry. It could have happened without so much drama. But Draco had gotten angry. The way Harry had been looking at him, as if Draco was supposed to feel guilty as if he had a right to be upset as if… well it didn't matter anymore. It was over, all of it was over. To be left behind and forgotten. Knowing who he was and who Harry was their paths most likely would never cross again.

Then there was only one matter left. Draco looked at the brown envelope lying on the passenger seat. Those pictures. Someone was sticking his or her nose in Draco's private life someone who knew him, someone who had resources, since shooting someone through the window was not a thing someone could have done on a whim.

Someone had done it on a purpose. Someone had to pay for that.

"How is he?" Hermione asked worriedly. She had called Ron a day after that damn break up from the hell and Ron had told her that there was no point to come by, since Harry wasn't talking to anyone, but she called the Weasleys on the phone at least twice every day since.

Ron sighed: "The same. Still hasn't come out of the room. Still not talking, hardly eating. I don't know what to do. Mum is worried too. She thinks we should get Harry to the doctor, but I don't think that is going to help."

"We will have to give him time, Ron,"

"It has been three days already Hermione! He is so sad, so…"

"Broken?"

"Yes, exactly! I want to help him, do something! Especially after everything I said…"

"Harry will not hold that against you…"

"Well, he should! He should be angrier at people who have hurt him!"

"Ron I hear you," Hermione chided. "What are you worried about? That Harry will forgive Malfoy?"

"Yes, I am, I know him. Harry is a very good person. He doesn't think he deserves things. What if Malfoy wants him back? Well I still don't know what happened between them, who knows what he had doe to Harry? What if he… Damn it! I don't want him hurt more, he's…"

"Yes, Ron, Harry is very special. Don't let him hurt then, be with him. Harry will come out of it and you will be with him."

"Thank you, Hermione."

"You are welcome,"

Hermione put her phone in the pocket and smiled. She hoped that she had nudged Ron in the right direction. Harry needed someone and the red-head obviously wouldn't mind to be there for him. She personally was sure that if Ron had been bolder and approached the other boy sooner, Draco Malfoy wouldn't have a chance. Even if he was not as unearthly gorgeous as the blonde, the younger Weasley boy was very attractive in his own way not mentioning much better personality.

Ron was sitting in the kitchen, nursing a mug of tea and avoiding his mother's and sister's eyes. He had not told them why Harry was the way he was. He was not sure if Harry wanted them to know and was not going to betray his best friend. He had already done it by and once was one time too much.

"Ronald," Molly started reproachfully.

"No, Mum," the red-head stopped her. "I told you everything I could already."

Maybe it was for the best that they didn't have a chance to find out which Wesley was more stubborn and a knock on the door interrupted them.

Ron stood up, glad to escape from his mother's clutches.

The young man flung the door open with more force than necessary, but he had been too frustrated lately and tended to forget how strong he was.

"Ron!" Ginny shouted after her brother. "It's winter! We need those doors."

"Oh, shut up you," he groaned and finally looked outside to see who was there.

The two men standing there were looking strangely at the red-head who despite his age was a bit taller than them.

"Oh, sorry," he blushed. "How can I help you?"

One of the men who had dark, long hair looked at the younger male with some amusement: "Hello, I hope you can help us. I am looking for Harry Potter."

TBC

AN: Thank you for reviews, they are so inspiring! I don't have words strong enough to express my gratitude.

Ok, and now answers to some things-ideas I have heard from you:

About Severus Snape – he is not going to have any interest in Draco besides being his godfather, kind of father figure. I am telling you that openly, because it is canon behaviour and most of the characters in my story are acting according to canon unless there is some very good reason for them to be different. Even if story is AU, I am keeping characters as I see them in canon.

Except Harry, who is different since he didn't go to Hogwarts when he was eleven.

But! (Hint!) It doesn't mean that Harry is not going to discover-develop his inner lion and as we are all aware there is even a bit of snake in him. So… that was a major hint about where the story is going!

Someone was concerned about age of consent – it's actually 16 in Britain, so Harry is legal. But then I was not really concerned about that, because I am sure Draco thinks himself above such things and wouldn't care about Harry's age. It's actually very interesting topic – just a couple of years it was 16 for heterosexual relationship and 18 for homosexual. Which was hypocritical of course. I got curious and found out that for example in USA it's different in every state, but in many cases it's 16 for girls and 18 for guys.

And someone mentioned that Draco is gay, Ron is gay, Blaise is gay. Well, not really. The only one who is certainly gay is Harry. Draco and Ron are very much bi. But Blaise… oh, I don't even want to know (chukles) probably will go with anyone who is rich and good looking or agrees to spank him really hard…


	9. Chapter 9

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title** : Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humor :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story. Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: No younger than teens

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing.

Chapter Nine 

Initially Ron had been very suspicious of the two men standing on their threshold. Over-protectiveness was not that uncalled for. After what had happened just two days ago he didn't want anything to hurt Harry who had suffered too much already as far as the red-head was concerned. So two strange, mysterious men standing on their doorstep, looking for his best friend made Ron to narrow eyes, fold his two impressively strong arms over his broad chest and ask them what business they had with 'Harry Potter'. Or rather demand menacingly towering over them. Ron was not taller by much, (they were grown men after all, not midgets like Harry) but those three, five inches were an advantage anyway.

"It's a log story, lad," the shorter man was still looking at the obviously overprotective red-head with a hint of amusement in the light blue eyes. "And I am not sure if it would be a good idea to tell it standing here outside on the porch."

Ron knitted his lips into a thin line seriously considering if he should try to send them on their way.

Suddenly Mrs. Weasley appeared behind her younger son.

"What is the matter, Ron? Why are you not asking the guests to come in?" She demanded sternly. "I thought I taught you better than that. I am truly sorry gentlemen!"

"They are asking about Harry," he sounded as if some grave offence against his friend had been committed.

"We mean him no harm," the other man finally spoke up, smiling kindly.

"Of course you don't!" Molly glared at Ron. "Don't mind Ronald. Come in! Would you like to have a cup of tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Cocoa?"

Finally everyone was seated with a mug of tea and a plate of home made scones and ginger bred cookies in the middle of the table. Molly had been cooking a lot in hope to make Harry more interested in eating. Unfortunately it wasn't working so far. But they had plenty of food to offer unexpected guests.

"Mrs. Weasley," the dark-haired man began. "Is it true that Harry is living here, with you?" He sounded slightly worried, but hopeful.

"Yes, indeed," Molly beamed. "Harry is such a dear, we are so happy to have him. His family treated the poor boy just awfully, if I ever get my hands on those people…"

"Mum!" Ron interrupted his mother looking at her pointedly, before she managed to blab out all their secrets, she was simply too trusting. "I think first we would like to know what you want with Harry."

Both men suddenly looked nervous. The dark-hired one was fidgeting as if staying still was some great chore for him.

"My name is Sirius Black," he stated then. "And that is Remus Lupin. We knew Harry's parents very well and I am his godfather. I am here because I want to see him. And… well it is a long story. No exaggerations. A very long story."

Harry wasn't feeling well. His head was heavy as if someone had stuffed it with cotton and his eyes itched. Which was no surprise after all the crying. Since Ron had half dragged the boy home he had been crying and crying until he had no tears left and then started sobbing again. No matter how hard he had tried to pull himself together Harry just couldn't. He had never felt so awful even if his life had been far from happy as long as he remembered. But now, now he really wanted to die, to give up. The pain was almost unbearable.

It just hurt so much.

Draco… Draco had made Harry so happy, deliriously happy, maybe that was why the fall had been so hard. The boy couldn't make up his mind and decide who he hated more – Draco or himself.

He was torn between hate and longing for the blonde and despised himself for that. In mere minutes his sobs turned from angry to full of misery as he pressed his face in the pillow to keep the noise down. Harry was used to crying silently at a very young age, if he had been making noise living with Dursleys they would have given him only more reasons to cry. Besides he didn't want the Weasleys hear him crying which was stupid and pointless, because they most certainly knew anyway.

Mrs. Weasley had came into his room and Ginny as well and tried to talk to him, but he had broken down, because he hadn't been ale to be happy for them. Harry hadn't known what to say to them and he hadn't wanted to be seen and he had been relieved to be left alone again, because he just couldn't stand seeing them at the moment. The boy had nothing to give anyone at the moment and it made him feel so guilty, but still Harry just couldn't make himself get out of the bed, take a shower, or even eat. Not eating was also nothing new for him after all.

And why couldn't he be selfish just once in his life? What if he wanted to mourn? What if he wanted to wallow in self pity? But it was wrong; he knew that it was wrong. The Weasleys had taken him in, cared for him and this was how Harry was repaying them.

The young man hated himself for being so miserable excuse of a human being. He was a weakling, a burden.

Maybe it was no surprise that Draco didn't want him? What was there to want after all? He had it coming, didn't he? No! No! No! Harry screamed at himself in his mind. He didn't have it coming! He hadn't done anything to deserve it! He had given Draco everything; Harry would have done anything for his lover if he had only asked. Harry hadn't done anything to deserve the way he had been treated. He had never done anything to deserve the way the Dursleys had treated him. If they hadn't wanted him they didn't have to take him in if Draco hadn't wanted him he didn't have to seek him out, he didn't have to show Harry how wonderful the life could be just to break his heart.

Was it always going to be like that? Were people just going to use him and then throw him out? He had thought that Draco… oh, God, what a naïve, little boy he had been! It made him angry, so angry; he had never felt like that before.

But anger was good, much better than misery. Harry decided to hold on his anger, because it made him want to be alive again. It made him want to stand up and break things, it made him stronger…

And then he suddenly thought of Draco of his amazing, silver grey eyes so cold and uncaring and the sadness Harry felt made him brake down in heart-wrenching sobs once again.

Harry was having one of his moderately good moments when he was just staring at the wall desperately trying not to think about anything at all when someone knocked on the door. It was most likely Ron. Ron was the only one Harry could bear having around. Mrs. Weasley was just too much and Ginny was Ginny, but Ron, Ron was alright. He didn't ask Harry questions. Ron just brought him water and food and sometimes sat on the floor next to Harry's bed holding his hand which was not too much, but just enough.

"Hey, mate," Ron spoke quietly. "There are some people who want to see you."

Harry couldn't imagine who would want to meet him. He shook his head; he didn't want to see anyone. It could be only Hermione or Luna and the boy was not up to it. He was sorry, he was feeling guilty, but he just couldn't…

"One of them is your godfather, Harry,"

At that the green eyes shot open and the boy lifted his head and looked at Ron: "I don't have a godfather." His voice was hoarse from not using it. but it was true, he didn't have anyone except the Weasleys.

"You do," Ron insisted and gave his best friend a wan smile.

A godfather? But… how was that possible? He had never heard anything about any godfathers. Dursleys had never mentioned… but then, they had never said much about Harry's parents as well.

"How? Why?" Harry asked astonished.

"He will tell you himself Harry. Do you want to see him?" Ron was almost beaming now. This was obviously exactly what his best friend had needed, something to take his mind of the fucking Malfoy bastard and those guys seemed to be alright. He had decided that after playing 'the bad cop' and interrogating the two while Mom had been trying to drown them in tea and stuff with scones.

"I… "

Harry didn't have a chance to make up his mind, because the door opened wider and he saw two men standing on the threshold. Could it be true that one of them was his godfather? Aunt Petunia had never said anything about… but why wouldn't she hide the fact that there was someone else in the world who would care for him? But why there were two of them?

"Hello, Harry," The dark-haired man grinned like he had just won a big prize or something. That made Harry feel even more awkward. "I am Sirius Black, your godfather. And that old man is Remus Lupin."

Harry tried to pull himself up a bit in a sitting position. All the sleeping had made him weak and he was feeling a bit dizzy.

Ron put on the small lamp so they could actually see each other and left the room looking hopeful.

The men looked around and pulled two chairs closer to Harry's bed and both sit down.

"You are so grown up, Harry," Sirius Black exclaimed with some strange emotion in his voice.

"Are you truly my godfather?" That was the only thing Harry could get himself to ask. It was just so… unexpected.

"Yes, Harry, I am," Sirius confirmed looking almost proud of it.

It was so strange. Harry was thinking that maybe he was dreaming and should pinch himself or touch the man. Well, that was probably not such a good idea, because even if the man claimed to be his godfather they were pretty much strangers.

Then Harry suddenly thought about something. The Dursleys.

"If you are my godfather, then why did you never visit me? Why are you here now? After all this time…" oh, damn, he sounded almost accusing. Harry probably didn't have any right to feel that way. A godfather was not a relative; he didn't owe Harry anything… the boy looked down ashamed of his unintentionally harsh words.

But the man suddenly looked very sad and lost.

"I couldn't Harry. I am sorry, but I couldn't. Believe me, I was thinking about you all this time… It is a long story; do you want to hear it?"

Harry nodded eagerly. Of course he wanted to her it. If nothing more this man was probably at least a link to his parents. Maybe he could tell about them.

"For reasons which I will have to return to later since they are pretty much complicated, I spent sixteen years of my life in prison. I was imprisoned in a high security facility in the north of Russia," Sirius sighed.

Harry's eyes widened. It was evidently going to be a very unusual story. Was his godfather a criminal? He didn't look like one. He had dark hair as long as Harry's, light blue or grey eyes; it was hard to tell because of the poor light. The man was a bit pale and very handsome and he had the most charming smile Harry had ever seen. At the moment he was not smiling, but that had been the first thing the boy noticed when the men had entered the room.

But Sirius just went on not batting an eyelash.

"People who held me there were paid very well. There was nothing I could do to send a message and let anyone know what had happened, so there was no way to get out, I couldn't even understand the others, my Russian was not that well and for the first years I was mostly kept isolated from other prisoners anyway, it was a hell, I was sure I would loose my mind…" the men chuckled mirthlessly. Most likely to conceal his true feelings.

"I guess I almost did go mad. I think, they started thinking that they had broken me, which was partly true, but I was allowed to spend some time with the other prisoners and go outside, since I started pretending to be a bit bonkers. People are lazy, it was easier for them, not to give me any special treatment. Then I started to learn Russian, slowly making friends and contacts, which wasn't really easy, far from it, since I was a foreigner without anything I could bargain with. It took time. In the end I met a fellow from their Mafia, Russians have a lot of those… anyway, he quite liked me. I didn't have any money you know and couldn't buy any help to get out, but Misha… well I owe him my life… I had almost lost hope, but then I was out and after some time could come back to Britain. That is the short version of last sixteen years of my life."

Harry stared at the man in disbelief. The story sounded like some kind of spy-tale or that story about the French guy who was falsely accused and then came back from prison to take vengeance on everyone… Bollocks…

The two men were looking at him expectantly. Harry decided that they wanted to see or hear some reaction from him.

"It is a bit much," the teenager offered.

"Of course, Harry, I know what you mean, I experienced the same when one day my long lost friend turned up and…" the other man smiled there was something soothing about him. The brown eyes reminded him of Hermione. "Your friend told us that you were not feeling well? How are you?"

Harry felt his face burning, for a moment he had completely forgotten about his troubles. They seemed so insignificant compared to what this man, Sirius, (his godfather!) had gone through. Besides he was suddenly too aware what he looked like after three days of not getting out of bed and crying. Like some tramp.

"I am fine," the boy tried to smile for them, but his lips were not obeying. "I am going to be fine," he decided to stick to verbal reassurances.

"Of course you will!" Sirius grinned. Harry wondered how someone who had been to the hell and back could still smile like that. "I am here now," the man went on. "I will take care of you from now on. Everything will be great!" And the next moment Sirius was next to him and was hugging Harry with all he got. At first the boy tensed, but then relaxed. Sirius's was warm and smelled like fresh air and earth and a bit of some aftershave. Harry realised that he felt safe in the man's embrace and that he was crying again.

Sirius let go of his godson as he noticed the tears.

"Harry, none of that," he dried boy's cheeks with sleeves of his shirt not worrying about ruining it. "No more crying, Ok?"

Harry nodded.

"Are you sill in trouble?" He asked then. "The prison and stuff…"

The man smirked: "I am always in some trouble, or I wouldn't be Sirius Black. But you probably mean authorities or something like that? No, not really. I was held there without a trial and any paperwork, without a good reason in fact, so when I vanished, they couldn't actually look for me through the official channels since I kind of wasn't there, even if I was. Oh, that sounds just silly… I am in rouble with those who locked me up there. So I am still in hiding of sorts. Not many people know that I am back in Britain. But it's going to be all right, we will manage. Don't worry kid."

Harry still had so many questions. He had a feeling that there was a lot more to it. He didn't know where to start though.

Then he looked at the other man. Remus Lupin.

"I guess you would like to hear my story too?" The man smiled warmly.

The boy nodded.

Remus sighed. Harry thought that he looked very sad: "I think I will have to start with asking for your forgiveness." Sirius put his hand on other man's arm in what was probably meant to be reassuring gesture.

"Everything went so horribly wrong in mere days. Lily and James… well you know… and then Sirius disappeared without a trace. I got sacked on the top of that and had to leave London since for some reason here was no jobs available to me," Remus smiled bitterly. Harry didn't understand how could that be, but obviously things were pretty complicated there.

"I was overtaken by grief and despair. At first I tried to apply for your custody, but then Dursleys were family, relatives, it was impossible to go against them. They didn't even let me see you. After a couple of years fighting it seemed all so hopeless and it just broke me. As far as officials were concerned I was a stranger to you and I didn't even have a right to visit. Maybe if I had tried harder…"

"Remi," Sirius whispered. It was hard for him to see his friends self loathing. "You did everything you could."

"I am sure you did, Mr. Lupin," Harry also felt like reassuring the man. But there was something he didn't quite understand: "But why didn't Dursleys give me to you? They hate me! They had always hated me. They were always telling me what a burden I was! If they had a chance to get rid of me why didn't they?"

Sirius shrugged.

Remus looked like he was thinking: "My best guess is the money."

"Money?" Harry frowned.

"Yes," Remus nodded. "Your parents were rich Harry. That means if something happened to them there was probably an account set up to support you until you were old enough to take care of yourself. So whoever was taking care of you got monthly allowance. I don't know how much exactly, but there had to be enough."

Then Harry suddenly burst into laughter. Both men looked at him strangely.

"It's priceless," there was a hysterical edge to the laughter. "It turns out that they were paid for torturing me."

"Were they that bad," Sirius's voice was strained.

"I guess so," Harry sighed. "I don't want to talk about it now. Tell me about my parents," Harry pleaded. "How long you knew them, for example, what they were like?"

Sirius looked reluctant, he wanted to hear about Dursleys and if they had mistreated his godson… but he decided to leave it be for now.

"I met James at school and we became best friends instantly," Sirius started with a sad smile. "I, James, Remus and… we were inseparable, got into all kind of trouble together. James was a good man. And your mother was smart and beautiful and had a wicked temper and green eyes as green as yours, Harry. You have your dad's hair, obviously, since Lily's were flaming red, but eyes are your mum's."

Harry put his head on the pillow and fell asleep listening to the stories of the pranks his father and The Marauders had played when they had been young and careless. He fell asleep smiling.

Sirius pulled the duvet higher up to Harry's chin and brushed the wild, dark hair away from his face.

"His hair is almost as long as mine," the man smiled smugly.

"He is a very beautiful boy," Remus noted.

"Handsome, Remi, he's not a girl!" The other man protested vehemently.

"Of course, Sirius, shush, don't wake him up," Remus smiled at his friend kindly. He was still amazed how little Sirius had changed despite everything he had been through.

"And I am not a child," Sirius huffed at his best friends intonation. He really didn't want to leave Harry so soon after finding him; he couldn't help feeling like the boy could somehow slip away if Sirius let him out of sight. And there were so many things he wanted to know about Harry, so many things the young man needed to know. But they would manage now when they were finally together again, Sirius believed that. He had to. His faith was what kept Sirius Black alive.

But finally Sirius sighed. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on his godson's forehead and followed Remus out of the room. Maybe he could get some information out of the boy with the red hair, like why Harry looked like shit. Sirius Black had to know who he would have to beat up.

Next morning when Harry opened his eyes he was not sure if it all hadn't been just a dream. But then he looked at the chairs standing exactly where the two men had been sitting yesterday… No. It hadn't been a dream. It had finally happened. Someone came to save him.

He had always dreamed about it. That one day his parents will return and save him for the Dursleys. The man, Sirius was not his father, but the boy knew that the man could save him. The way Sirius had looked at him, it had made Harry want to be saved. His godfather had been so full of hope and happiness when he had looked at Harry that the teenager just couldn't disappoint him.

Harry got up from his bed and dragged himself to the bathroom. He had spent three days in his tiny room wearing the same pyjamas and it was getting uncomfortable. The boy carefully washed his hair and body. He let the simple acts distract himself from thoughts which Harry was not ready to sort out at the moment.

He even used Ginny's hair-drier. His hair was very long, so it took a lot of time if he waited for it to dry naturally. Maybe it was too long, but Harry kind of liked it now. The reason for it was very simple – Petunia didn't want to spend money for his hair-cut or do it herself which meant touching her nephew. And his godfather had long hair too. Probably they didn't care of such things in prison as well. Well, the Dursleys' house had been Harry's prison.

The boy looked in the mirror. He was a bit pale, but otherwise everything was in order… but what had he expected? A mark of shame on his forehead? Harry sneered at his reflection and was hit by a realisation that something was different. The bitterness that had never been there before. No, there were no marks, no visible scars, no prove of how high he had been carried and how painful the fall had been. but Harry was not the same. He had been broken. He was never going to be the same again.

Finally the boy stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in an extra large, fluffy towel, clean and fresh like a new born.

First thing Harry saw was Ron standing in the hall, looking worried. It was heart warming. Ron had been with him and that had helped a lot.

"Ron," Harry smiled. "I am a big boy. I won't drown in the shower."

The red-head visibly relaxed: "I know, I know…"

Harry's grin widened.

The red-head crossed arms over his chest and leaned against the wall: "Oh, go ahead; make fun of your foolish best friend who's been worried sick about you…"

Harry's grin disappeared: "Oh, Ron, I am sorry, I'm sorry!" He dashed forward wrapping his arms around taller man's waist and burying his face in Ron's shirt. "So sorry for everything!"

"It's Ok," Ron mumbled raking his fingers through the dark hair which felt absolutely wonderful under his fingers. His other hand was drawing circles on boy's bare back just under his shoulder blades where the towel had slipped down. It was intoxicating. Skin finer than silk…

And he was so relieved. Harry was better, Harry was going to be alright, he will keep going, they all were going to be alright…

Ron buried his nose in Harry's hair…

Oh, God! What was he doing! The redhead took his hands off Harry and straightened trying to step back and break the contact, but Harry didn't let go of Ron. He just looked up in the blue eyes which looked almost frightened.

"What's the matter Ron?" Harry was looking at his best fiend with curiosity; something was… not exactly wrong, but…

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words; he had to close his eyes to avoid the brilliant green eyes, the small, lascivious mouth and all the skin that was begging to be worshipped by someone's lips. The temptation was just too much.

"Ron, Look at me," Harry demanded with more force than anyone had ever heard in his voice. The timid teen never demanded anything.

The blue eyes opened once more and then suddenly Harry reached out and stroked Ron's cheek with one of his small fingers just to feel him tremble under the gentle touch. Watching his best friend the boy realised how blind he had been: "Oh, Ron, you…" Harry whispered.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm sorry…" the redhead tried to push the other teenager away.

"You want me, Ron, don't you," it was more of a statement than a question.

"I'm sorry…" Ron looked more miserable with every passing moment.

"Don't be," Harry wound his arms around taller boy's neck. "I don't really mind. I should be flattered, you are a good guy, didn't even know you liked not only girls."

"You are my friend, Harry, it is wrong," Ron protested his cheeks red as he was trying to move away from the smaller male.

"Don't be ashamed, Ron," Harry smirked. "This is quite complimentary. I assume it's for me?" Harry pushed his hip against Ron's obvious arousal.

"Don't!" Ron protested weakly. The boy was just too tempting when he was standing there almost naked.

"Where is your mother and Ginny?" Harry asked and Ron shuddered feeling other's breath caressing his neck as Harry spoke standing so close to him.

Fingers were playing with hair just above nape of Ron's neck and he didn't really understand what his mother and sister had to do with anything, but feeling a bit dazed answered nonetheless: "Went to TESCO and… well, shopping somewhere. Harry, you have no idea what you are doing to me, please stop," Ron almost moaned.

"Oh, I do know what I am doing," using his arms around red-head's neck for leverage Harry jumped up and wrapped his legs around Ron's waist and rocked against him a bit.

"Harry," Ron groaned.

"Let's go to my room," Harry suggested nibbling on his friends ear and playing with the short red hair at the nape of Ron's neck, loving the texture.

"Why, Harry?"

"Why? Why not? Because you want it, because I need it, because I can give you what you want. Don't worry; it's going to be alright,"

"Are you sure…"

"Yes, I am sure," the dark-hired boy grinned and if Ron hadn't been that overcome with too many conflicting emotions already he had noticed that there was something feral about the expression.

Ron pushed the door open and staggered in, then he closed it and carried them both to the bed. Ron gently let Harry down on his back, but Harry didn't let go, he pulled Ron down on him and brushed his lips against other boy's invitingly. It was all what was needed, Ron vigorously attacked Harry's mouth and very soon their tongues were intertwined in a passionate kiss.

Harry pulled Ron's shirt out of his jeans and explored the broad, muscular back with his small hands using just a bit of his nails. Draco had taught him a lot. Ron hissed in pleasure.

Not letting go of Ron's lips Harry started pulling at the buttons of his friend's shirt. Ron sat up pulling Harry with him on his lap and together they somehow managed to wring the shirt off. One bare chest against other felt very good.

"Harry…" Ron moaned.

"Will you forgive me, Ron?" Harry whispered on red-heads ear his eyes suddenly filled with sadness.

"For what?" Ron stopped in confusion, at the moment he didn't think of anything to forgive.

"For using you," Harry's voice sounded flat. He ha to give Ron a chance to turn back. He felt like he was about to fall and drag Ron down with him, he had to give the man last chance to turn back.

"Use me, if you have to," Ron smiled sadly understanding and gently brushed hair of Harry's pale forehead. He wanted to give something to Harry, something that made everything better.

Harry in the meantime reached for the button of Ron's jeans; he got them open, but was not very successful with removing them while sitting on the bed. So Harry got out of Ron's lap pushing at his chest: "Get those off."

Ron reluctantly detached himself from Harry and scrambled to his feet.

"Ron," Harry hooked one finger behind red-heads waistband. "First go to the bathroom and get baby-oil, 'key?"

Ron looked confused, but followed the order with unseen speed.

When he returned the bottle with oil almost slipped from his hands. Harry had gotten rid of the towel and he was lying on the bed completely naked with his knees bent, legs slightly parted…

"Come here, Ron," he whispered and extended his hand.

Ron didn't have to be told twice. Screw consequences and the fact that Harry was using him. He had never been a kind of person who would refuse a drink fearing hangover anyway. Ron decided not to worry about it now.

Draco was standing by the window and looking outside when Blaise walked into the room. Blaise had to suppress a shudder. Draco wasn't moving, he was so still, like a marble statue and it was as if coldness was radiating off him.

From his posture it was obvious that the blonde was nursing a tumbler in his hand. Blaise was unsure how to go about everything, so he lingered by the door. There was no doubt that Draco knew that he wasn't alone in the room though.

Blaise wondered how much rum Draco has had, because it could be important after all. But there was no way to tell with someone who could be as stoic as Draco Malfoy.

Finally the blonde spoke up: "Come in Blaise, make yourself comfortable."

Blaise smirked. Draco sounded a bit drunk after all which was probably not bad.

He walked in the room and graciously sank in the sofa half sitting, half lying in a relaxed pose.

Then Draco turned away from the window. First he picked up the bottle with dark amber liquid and refilled the glass, then sat down in the chair across the other man.

Blaise's awakening arousal forced him to shift to get more comfortable, Draco was just… oh, God… he had never seen a man who was as gorgeous as Draco Malfoy. Not only tall, and muscular, not only his face was absolutely perfect, but the colouring was so unusual, the blonde hair was almost white and grey eyes so light. Draco was surreal, unearthly creature. A vision. And then there was all that ice-cold passion, that angry strength.

Oh, yes, Blaise could feel that anger which was hidden behind those impassionate eyes. Blaise could imagine what got Draco angry, what had kept him angry since the boy started to become a man. Blaise had watched his best friend for years, studied him like a fine specimen of species who the blonde was. Blaise knew what Draco's hate was about.

As every reasonable, independent and thinking person in his position would, Draco hated his father. It was all well hidden under an icy exterior, under small, meaningless acts of rebellion like getting drunk, partying too hard, fucking around. As if Lucius cared about such things.

Blaise understood Draco better than anyone. It was his father who Draco was trying to hurt with his cold cruelty, no matter how misguided it all was. It was his father who Draco wanted to reject and he wanted to see how that rejection hurt. But then, Draco couldn't go against his father. So he unleashed his anger on other people not caring if they deserved it or not. Blaise didn't care as well. He was not going to fall in that category. He was not going to let Draco to take his frustration out of him that way. He was not a victim. Draco treated people the way he treated them. That was it. There was nothing personal to it. One just had to be strong enough to ignore it. Blaise was strong and resilient. He could handle a Malfoy. Just to imagine that Harry Potter that little, grey mouse could be what Draco needed… it was ridiculous. Draco needed someone strong who wouldn't break under his not so gentle touch, who ignored his shortcomings.

All that pent up anger was making Draco irrational and ruling him. It was a weakness in a way and the proud blonde didn't even see it. But then, no one would call Draco Malfoy weak. Maybe 'weak' was not the right word after all. Was it 'conflicted'? Oh, well, whatever.

What truly mattered was that Blaise wanted to turn Draco's anger into passion and he wanted that passion for himself. And it was finally the right time. It had to be. He had dropped the pictures one of Lucius' goons had delivered straight into Potter's hands.

Draco was not talking. He was simply sitting there seemingly lost in his thoughts. Blaise decided that the suffering suited Draco. It added a new edge to his powerful, bitter, cynical personality.

Just looking at the other man the way which made Blaise want to squirm. He wasn't going, but…

Blaise decided that it was time to break the silence: "What's the occasion?" He inquired with a small smile in easy going manner pointing at the glass.

"Do I need a reason to drink?" The blonde raised an eyebrow.

"Do you?" Blaise teased grinning.

"Hn," Draco made a non-committal sound.

"I wouldn't say that sulking doesn't fit you, love," Blaise tried lightly. "But it's quite counterproductive, don't you agree?"

The blonde stood up with a feline grace and went over to the other man and kneeled in front of him: "You know Draco, the best thing to do is just go on without looking back. Especially when there are so many wonderful ways to forget…"

Blaise trailed his finger along the inner seam of Draco's trousers, smiling seductively, but his hand was batted away before reaching its destination. Blaise pouted.

Then the blond head lifted and unforgiving quicksilver grey eyes locked on blue.

"What exactly do you think I need to forget?" Draco asked coldly with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Blaise tried to looked as innocent as a new born babe: "The unfairness of life? Everything? I don't care. Whatever you need." The insinuation in his voice was obvious.

Draco shrugged Blaise's hand off his knee.

"Sorry, Blaise, I have other plans,"

Blaise was getting desperate. He had wanted to catch Draco sulking and vulnerable and offer to comfort him and… that had been his plan. And he didn't care for Malfoy's tone at all.

"What plans?" He asked warily watching the blonde standing up, brushing past him and putting the tumbler down next to the bottle. He had a very bad feeling about this.

"I am planning to move out Blaise," Draco smirked. "I have already packed my bags, they are in the car. Just wanted to say my goodbyes, but it's not like there is anyone at home, ever, maybe except you, so goodbye Blaise."

With that Draco walked to the door leaving Blaise completely stunned.

But at the door he stopped, turned around and looked at the other man making him shudder, there was so much hate in those beautiful eyes: "And if I will ever find out that you had anything to do with what happened, I **will **make you regret it."

Blaise gulped loudly and watched helplessly as Draco left the Malfoy Manor. He even pinched his own arm to make sure that he was awake and it was really happening. What have he done…

TBC

AN: Here it finally is. Maybe I could have corrected more mistakes if I went through this one more time, but I have been on this for too long already, so I am posting it. I hope you don't hate the chapter and if you do, well… sorry then.


	10. Chapter 10

thrnbrooke and srbjm and angelkitty77 and bookworm51485 and hotseek: You all mentioned Blaise in your reviews

**Author**: TheSiner

**T****itle**: Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humour :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story (loosely based on). Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: it's not too bad

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing, not betaedited.

Chapter Ten

Harry was lying awake looking at the man sleeping next to him and wondering… well, he was wondering about a lot of things. The boy wouldn't call his life very un-complicated at the moment, so there was a lot to think about.

For one, he had just slept with his best friend, his first real friend, someone who was more of a brother to him than anything else. It had been good enough, maybe a bit rushed, but not in a bad way. Ron was a good looking man. Tall and strong, unlike Harry. It was no surprise, Molly fed all of her children after all. But Ron's look didn't matter anyway. At least not to Harry.

The teenager wondered if he should feel guilty, if it had been a mistake. It didn't exactly felt like a mistake. It depended on what Ron was going to think after he woke up and had a chance to think about it. Harry had no idea. He had warned the red-head that he was being used, but was not sure if Ron had understood in the heat of the moment.

Harry also wondered if he was a slut now. But why would he care? For once in his life Harry had taken what he wanted without thinking about consequences. If someone wanted to take the moral high ground and point a finger at him, they were welcome to it. What mattered now was if Ron hated him, it was no one else's business. It was just that all the time he could see in his mind aunt Petunia pointing her bony finger at him and calling him bad names. She had always been good at taking the moral high ground.

Sod, her! It's not like Harry had ever received any kind of reward for being a good boy. He smiled bitterly. He had done everything Dursleys had asked of him and they hadn't liked their nephew for that any better. They had even received money for keeping him and still treated the boy like some unbearable burden. And he had given Draco everything and, look, how far it had gotten him.

If Ron wanted to turn against him now, he was welcome, it was his choice Harry didn't care that much anymore, he was not going to allow people walk over himself again and he was not going to comply with their every wish just to be liked better. He didn't believe that it was possible to earn anyone's love that way, not any longer. They loved you or they didn't.

Well, but they had to get up, because no matter what, none of them wanted Molly discovering them like this – stark naked and way too cosy on Harry's bed. This was between Ron and Harry only. Making it more complicated was not going to do anyone any good.

Harry nudged Ron in the shoulder: "Ronnie! Wake up; it's time to go to school." He joked.

"'ive more 'inutes Mom," the red-head grumbled and Harry snickered surprised that it had actually worked.

The boy smirked, feeling wicked he leaned over and lightly bit on Ron's nipple.

The baby blue eyes shot open immediately.

"I don't really like you confusing me with your Mum, Ron, that's as disturbing as it can get," the boy teased, his green eyes full of mirth.

"Prat," Ron chuckled and Harry grinned.

Then Ron suddenly grew serious: "Harry… this…"

The dark-hired youth sighed: "I love you, Ron, but only as a friend and, anyway, I don't think that I could love anyone that way at the moment. But what happened… it was what it was. I don't want to make a mess of everything or ruin our friendship, I didn't mind, you didn't mind, I warned you that… are you angry with me now? Do you hate me, Ron?"

Ron cupped one of Harry's cheeks in his large, warm hand and looked the other boy in the eye: "Don't fret. I knew what I was doing, better than you probably; I am not the one who had recently…" He didn't want to finish the sentence; he didn't want to talk about Malfoy now. "I don't regret what we did. I never actually lusted after any guys before, but then came you and I must admit that I was a bit obsessed, can't even explain, you are just so… It was different, but not in a bad way… If you are afraid that I will demand that you swear me eternal love, don't worry Harry, I won't. Sure, you are the prettiest boy I have ever seen…"

Harry made a face and Ron laughed: "Ok, the most handsome! We re too young to be serious about it anyway, I am glad if I helped you feel better."

Harry smiled and flung his arms round his best friend's neck and kissed him soundly on lips not exactly the way one kissed a friend: "You are a great friend, Ron!"

"A friend with benefits, Harry, I have always wanted to have one… I think. You know, sounded kind of cool," Ron corrected and they both laughed.

"And Harry, I didn't want to sound like I got what I wanted from you and… but…"

"…but you got what you wanted and it was enough? " Harry finished for him. "Don't worry. We both got what we wanted and we are still good friends."

Ron smiled, relieved.

"But now we should clean up before Mum and Ginny come home, I don't think they would understand," the red head started getting out of bed.

They took another shower together and agreed that whatever happened between them it was to stay between them. They didn't want anyone to make a big deal out of it which would certainly happen if any of the Weasleys found out. Besides Harry hadn't even told his godfather that he was gay.

When Molly and Ginny returned both boys were sitting by the kitchen table, sipping tea and looking absolutely innocent.

Mrs Weasley was delighted that Harry was looking and feeling that well and instantly offered to cook him whatever her 'adopted' son wanted.

"So," Ginny had sat down with a mug of her own. "Are you going to tell us what the last three days were about?"

Harry was instantly reminded that the pain was still there… but he swallowed the lump which had stuck in his throat and took a deep breath. The boy had decided to come clean at least partially. This was his family besides e had to know if they really meant it, if they were going to love him no matter what, like a real family should. He had decided to stop being afraid of everything and take the risk.

"I just broke up with my…mm, boyfriend," he chocked out and the blush on his face could put the Weasley hair to shame.

Ginny's eyebrows shot to her hairline and Molly dropped the spatula. Ron sipped on his tea and tried not to snicker.

"Who in their right mind would let you go!" Ginny was the first one to recover when the silence in the kitchen started to stretch out for a bit too long.

Molly walked over to the table and sat down next to the boy who had become one of her own. Harry had obviously surprised her a bit there, but… "Oh, Harry, I am terribly sorry," she patted the boy's arm. "Loosing your first love hurts a lot, but, don't worry, time heals everything. Especially when one is as young as you. I remember when I was your age, there was this boy..." her voice had become dreamy. "Stewart, Stewart Bradley… "

"Mom!" Ron moaned.

Molly huffed and murmured something about young people thinking that they were the ones who invented romance…

Harry smiled at her, oh, how he wanted to believe that, believe that it had been just a crush, a fling, but… there had been something between him and Draco, something he could hardly explain, but breaking that something… it had been unforgivable and unforgettable.

"So, you are, Ok, with me being… gay?" Harry asked.

"I think it's great!" Ginny exclaimed. "I will have someone to talk to about boys at home!"

Harry winced. The fact that he **did** boys didn't mean he wanted to talk about them. In his mind he could already see them leafing through the magazines and gushing over Justin Timberlake. Oh, no…

This time Ron **did** snicker. It was written all over his best friends face what he thought of Ginny's idea.

"I am a little surprised, of course," Molly admitted. "But I think that it's more that I… I didn't really think about it, you are such a sweet, little boy, but I guess you are seventeen already… and I was not that much older when I first met Arthur…"

So Mrs. Wesley was actually more upset about the fact that Harry was dating someone than the fact that 'the someone' was male.

"So, who was he?" Ginny's eyes were glistening with curiosity.

"A real bastard," Ron ground out. His fists still has plans with Malfoy's mug.

"I really… I am not ready to talk about it, it's over," Harry's voice was small, but it didn't break. He had promised to be strong.

"Leave the poor boy alone Ginerva," Molly chided and poured everyone some more tea.

Harry was relieved that it had gone that well. Maybe he had a real family after all.

Harry was impatiently waiting for his godfather and Mr. Lupin to return. It was obvious that they haven't discussed everything before the boy had become too tired and fallen asleep and it had been a lot to take in anyway. The story of Sirius's life for example. He could hardly believe it. But the two men didn't look like they were having him on.

And what else had they said? That Harry's parents had been rich? Petunia had loved to tell Harry what a miserable excuse of human being he was and that he was probably going to turn out the same way his parents had been – a pair of useless drunks living on benefits, leeching off decent people the same way Harry was leeching of them. It had been one of her favourite lines!

And Harry had accepted it. He had endured their treatment and worked as hard as he could, he had done all the cooking and cleaning and gardening to repay them and… Harry was beyond furious if it was true that they were receiving money for raising him.

But no matter what, the teenager had a feeling that his life was going to change very soon.

When Sirius and Remus returned Harry was already waiting for them in the kitchen. He saw a fancy, black car stopping by the house and both men climbing out from the back. Did they have a personal driver or something? Was Sirius rich as well?

"Harry!" Sirius beamed when his godson opened the door. "You look much better today! Are you sure that you have recovered already?"

The boy looked at the both men with obvious confusion.

"Mrs. Weasley told us you were unwell," Remus explained, looking at the boy with worry.

Harry's cheeks flushed: "I was unwell, but not really ill. It was not like cold or something."

Now it was Remus' and Sirius' turn to be confused.

Harry beckoned the men to come in and sit down: "I guess if you are my godfather I should be telling you things, right?"

"Of course, that is why I am your godfather, to be your father when he can't be there for you… well you know… we are family now and even if I was not here, I was always thinking about you Harry, you were the one of the things that helped me to make it. I hoped to see you again one day. Of course you can tell me everything, no, you absolutely must tell me everything, there are so many things I don't know about you. Hell, there are even more things you don't know about me. We have a lot of catching up to do!"

Harry was really touched, he still couldn't believe that Sirius was real and was going to stay, but he slowly started to.

"I was depressed," Harry admitted. "I broke up with someone I was seeing."

"Ah," Sirius drawled. "The first love and the first heart break can be a bit hard on you."

Harry smiled. He could see that Sirius the same as Molly still thought that he was a child and didn't take it seriously. They wouldn't understand, not completely. The all consuming longing and sense of loss he was feeling… and not even that. He couldn't explain the connection he had with Draco himself. Draco had seemed perfect to him… for him.

"Don't worry kid," Sirius smiled encouragingly. "There are a lot of other fish in the sea. Her loss."

"His," Harry corrected holding his breath.

"Sorry?"

"I think Harry said 'his'," Remus put in helpfully.

Sirius fixed his light blue eyes on Harry: "You're queer?"

Was he angry? "Um, yes," the boy admitted. "Are you angry?"

Remus chuckled.

Sirius glared at the other man and looked back at Harry: "Well, that would be very hypocritical of me." The corners of his mouth were twitching.

Harry's eyes widened. "You two… are you…" he gestured at Remus and his godfather.

"No! God forbid!" Remus protested, laughing.

"Hey!" Sirius hit him on the arm. "No need to be insulting! No, Harry, we are just friends, of course there was that one time when…" Remus' cheeks started rapidly changing colour and Sirius chuckled. "Remi wanted to know if he had any inclinations towards the sterner sex and he has not."

"Sirius!" Remus chided. "You shouldn't tell Harry such things!"

"I shouldn't be telling him such things about his father, but you are a fair game," the dark-haired man grinned.

"I could retaliate," Remus threatened.

"Be my guest! It wouldn't do to brag about my exploits, but if a friend told young Harry about them…"

"Ignore, Sirius, he has no shame," Remus addressed Harry looking somewhere between being annoyed and amused.

"It's alright," Harry smiled happily. He liked Remus and Sirius very much; he wouldn't mind having them in his life at all.

"So, Harry," Sirius continued. "If you have any questions about anything, you know, even the ones you don't want to ask… you can always come to me, alright? I could teach you some very good tricks," he leered.

Remus looked scandalized. He was a teacher after all and couldn't condone corrupting children in good conscience.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," Harry fought to keep his smile on. He was sure that it was little too late for uncomfortable kind of questions. After sleeping with Draco Malfoy for last… God, he realised that it had only been a couple of months, but it seemed like years, it really had seemed as if they were already together forever… or it was like that only for Harry… Who knew how little the whole affair had meant to Draco? But the fact was that he doubted that there was much he didn't know about sex.

"..but we have much more serious matters we need to discuss," Remus Lupin's voice made Harry return to reality.

"Like your inheritance Harry and your parents," Lupin explained when the boy sent him a blank look.

"And what about it? What about them?"

"The thing is that you are going to receive a lot of money and some other stuff when you turn eighteen Harry," Sirius started. "But there might be problems. The kind of problems I would like to shield you from."

Harry wanted to laugh; no one has wanted to shield him from anything, ever. Well, before the Weasleys at least. And a lot of money?

"Aren't there things one can't be sheltered from?" The boy asked then.

"I don't know Harry, I don't know," Sirius rubbed his forehead tiredly. "I just don't want to drag you into everything. I want you to be happy and safe, kid."

"How about you tell me everything and then let me choose for myself" Harry suggested.

Sirius looked doubtful, but Remus spoke up: "Sirius, I think we are already involved n whatever it is that is going on. Which you haven't completely explained to me either, by the way. Stop being elusive and tell us everything for once. Harry is right, give us facts and let us make an informed decision."

"Alright," Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender. "I just wanted to put it off. Well, you see… whoever did what they did to me and whoever killed James and Lily, I want them to pay." He ground out with fierce determination.

"What?" Remus looked astonished. "What do you mean, killed James and Lily?"

"Really, Remi," Sirius rolled his eyes. "That car crash which killed Lily and James and almost got Harry too was not an accident and you know it as well as me."

Remus shifted apparently uncomfortable, glancing at Harry: "Sirius, not in front of Harry! And we know nothing for sure!"

"No, go ahead, Sirius, I want to know," in fact, Harry was not sure if he really wanted to know, but he certainly **had **to know the truth.

"Harry, your father and I, we both inherited our family fortunes. James was still in the school when his father died, I was just out of school. And suddenly we had all that money and not only the money – there were also shares and loans, investments. So we both started sorting out all of it. It is not so simple when you are rich, especially if you are coming from old money. It can be complicated to find out where exactly it's coming from and where it is going to. James was better at the whole finances thing, besides there were some companies we both had invested in, so he was kind of in charge of everything. I was in the France that day, on holiday with my… well, it doesn't matter with whom anymore, right?" Who could blame Sirius for feeling bitter because of everything he had lost.

"Well, James called me. He was very upset, told me that it was not something we should discuss on the phone, but James had found something he didn't like at all. That was the last time we talked. The next day Remus called me and told me that James and Lily were dead and you, Harry, hardly made it. I was getting ready to return home next morning, had my bags packed and everything. Had a drink, went to bed, but when I woke up… Imagine my surprise to wake up in some small, dingy box of a room thousands of miles away from the place where I fell asleep. I think it is obvious," Sirius concluded looking at his friend and godson. "Whoever it was took care of James and me because of what Jamie found out."

"You cannot know that," Remus sounded frustrated.

"Oh," Sirius chirped. "If you have a better idea, you are welcome to share."

"No, but…"

"Do you suspect anyone," Harry suddenly interrupted their bickering.

"Kind of," Sirius admitted. "You see, it turns out that officially I am not dead even if I have been gone for years. One would think that the people who stuck me in that hell hole wanted the world to think that I was dead, but obviously they didn't, because the official version is that I am travelling around the world, trying to find myself or something while one of my kind relatives are managing my money and other properties. I think whoever is pulling her strings is responsible for everything that happened."

Harry's head was spinning. A couple of days ago he had been just an orphan who thought that the worst thing that could happen with him was Draco Malfoy. But now… he was suddenly in the middle of some strange conspiracy if Sirius Black was not some lunatic… but somehow Harry doubted that. And his parents, they were not dead because of drunken driving, but because someone had murdered them.

"And now you want to go after them?" It was obvious from his tone what Remus thought about it. "And pull Harry into it."

"Damn it, Remus," Sirius swore. "He has to know! They were his parents!"

Harry couldn't agree more: "Sirius is right. If someone killed my mum and dad…"

"Don't you see!" Remus raised his voice. "If they killed Lily and James, they could easily kill you as well!"

"I won't let them, Remi," Sirius declared serenely.

"How, when you will be dead as well?" The other man returned.

"They don't know where I am yet, but you have a point, they will most likely try to hunt me down," Sirius admitted. "But the thing is Remus that I don't believe they will leave Harry alone now when I am free. Even if I hadn't tried to contact you, Harry, those guys would be looking for you, just because I would be looking for you. Probably they are on your trail already. It certainly helps that you are not living with your relatives anymore, we had to threaten them to find out about your school and from there we found out that you were staying with the Weasleys. But really – anyone could do that. And even if they thought that I hadn't contacted you, I am not sure if they would let you be, those people mean business Harry."

"God, you are right," Remus exclaimed. "I didn't think about that."

"I am sorry, Harry," Sirius shook his head. "I just don't think we can bury our heads ostrich-like in the sand and pretend that everything is alright. We can wait until they have us in the corner and we have no choice but fight or we can pick our own battles, believe me, it gives you an advantage,"

Remus looked at his friend with pity; it was obvious that the man was speaking from experience, he was sorry that someone who had obviously once been so carefree and have loved life so much had been forced to go through all of that.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Harry spoke up. "You don't believe that I could hide from my past forever, right?"

Sirius shook his head. He didn't. He believed that whatever happened, Harry was going to be in danger sooner or later and it would be better if the boy was not alone facing it. sure, he had been left alone as a baby, but now no one could guarantee that someone didn't try to hurt the boy.

"Then it is better that I know what is happening," Harry concluded. "But what now?"

"Now we will have to go into hiding until you reach your eighteen, brat," Sirius announced joyfully and Harry had an impulse to move the sugar-bowl out of his reach. Was any English man supposed to be so…

"Hiding, where?" Remus inquired suspiciously.

"Russia,"

"What?" Remus and Harry both exclaimed.

"We don't have money, we don't have anything in fact," Sirius reasoned. "I am planning to stay 'in exile' until Harry is eighteen and receives his inheritance, because if something happens to me I want him to have at least something. Money can buy safety if it comes to that. Besides if he is an adult – it makes a lot of things easier, no one can take control over him through the Dursleys or in any other way. But until then we have nothing much to work with."

"Why Russia, Sirius?" The man still hadn't gotten to the point.

"I mentioned my 'friend' didn't I?" Sirius suddenly found the checked tablecloth very interesting. "Well he is going to help us."

"So it is the kind of 'friend'…" Remus looked like he didn't quite want to finish, as he glanced at Harry.

"You and him are…" it was fairly obvious even to Harry.

"Hm, yeah…" Sirius had a decency to blush.

But Remus suddenly looked livid: "Don't tell me that you are trading…"

"No! Of course not! I am not trading anything!" The dark-hired man protested vehemently. "It is not like that, Remus. Well, yes, I owe him and he owes me, but we are very... And it is nothing for you to worry about anyway. Listen, Misha will hide and protect us, we can trust him. As soon as we are ready there is a private jet waiting for us. And I think we must hurry, before someone finds us."

"We don't have much choice do we?" Remus finalised still looking doubtful and determined to do more questioning as soon as they were alone.

Harry silently agreed.

The hardest part was telling the Weasleys. There was no way they could tell everything, but just packing bags and leaving was also out of question. Harry would never accept that. Besides they had to be warned. The fact that the boy had stayed with the family for so long could put them in danger.

Maybe he was making a mistake, but Harry decided to tell Ron everything except where they were going. Later when Ron came home from playing football with Dean, Seamus and some other friends, Harry dragged the red-head into his room told him about his parents and Sirius and other things as well as he could.

What really made Ron upset was not that being close to Harry could be possibly dangerous, but the fact that the boy was leaving. Harry didn't particularly want to leave… he promised Ron to return after his birthday and kissed him and then they made the most of the time left before Ginny and Molly returned from visiting some aunt Mariel or Muriel or what was her name.

While taking a shower, Harry decided that maybe it was for the better that he was leaving, because even if it was not exactly wrong that he and Ron were shagging, it was not right either. Yes, they were both consenting adults and both knew what they were getting into and Ron knew what Harry was feeling or what he wasn't. But sooner or later it was going to cause problems and Harry didn't want to ruin the first real friendship he had ever had.

Besides he wanted to get away. To go somewhere far, far away where everything didn't remind him of Draco Malfoy. Where he wouldn't have to risk running into the blonde on campus. Sure, Harry didn't really like the idea of abandoning his studies, but he would be able to return to them after coming back, wouldn't he? And if there was inheritance, Harry would be able to give up the scholarship so it would go to someone who really needed the money and pay for his studies with what his parents had left him.

Later that night Remus and Sirius returned and all together they announced Harry's unavoidable departure. They had planned to be as evasive as possible, but in the end seeing tears in Molly's eyes they relieved more than they had intended to. That there were people who might try to hurt Harry and Sirius was taking him to somewhere safe. Sirius warned the Weasleys not to mention Harry if they didn't have to and if someone asked to tell that he was just a boy who had been living with them, renting a room, and then suddenly left without giving a reason or telling anyone where he was going.

Molly called the twins who arrived straight away and Ron invited Hermione. They stayed up late that night talking and saying goodbyes. But the next when they were about to get into the car Harry still didn't felt like he had managed to say proper enough 'goodbye'. Well obviously nothing they could tell each other would change the fact that Harry was going to miss his foster family and first friends.

But the weirdest thing about everything was not even that no one checked their passports in the small, private airport from which the plane was going to take off. That somehow didn't surprise the boy too much. What made Harry uneasy was the fact that he felt like he hadn't said all the goodbyes he was supposed to say. Draco. Draco didn't know that he was leaving. He knew that Draco probably didn't care where he was or what he was doing. They were over and… but a part of him wanted to… what?

Nothing. He owed Draco Malfoy nothing. Even if he couldn't quite stop thinking about him yet.

Harry had never been even close to a plane or outside London. And now he was on a private jet which was about to land somewhere near Moscow, Russia. And he had a godfather. What else was going to change in his life? Harry didn't even want to contemplate that. It was crazy. To himself the boy contemplated that everything had started with that fateful day when Dudley had decided that his cousin had to pretend to be his date for the night. It seemed like something that had happened years ago. And the last three months alone were worth three years.

Harry had not told his father's friends his story yet. They definitely suspected something about Dursleys, about how bad they had been. But obviously were giving the teenager time or something like that. Harry was not sure if he wanted to unburden himself. He was not used to sharing his feelings with others. He had never had anyone to share with.

Maybe in time, when he would get to know both men better.

Remus appeared to be as wary about everything as Harry. He didn't know people who they were going to trust with their safety for about six months. Sirius as usually was perfectly cheerful. It started to worry Harry, because he didn't know his Godfather well enough to know if Sirius' optimism was founded or not. He had never truly risked with anything, but then… the boy realised that it was actually alright with him. Even if he had never had a chance to be brave before – Harry didn't feel like coward, he was ready to face what was coming.

Harry was reading a magazine, because there was nothing to see outside, since they were flying above the clouds for a while. At first he had been fascinated with heaps of clouds like an endless, fluffy blanket, sun shining over everything. The sight had been fascinating for a boy who had never flown before. But after some time he had gotten tired and switched to reading.

"We are almost there! Buckle your seat belts!" Very hyper Sirius suddenly returned them and flopped down in the chair next to Harry.

The boy started frantically chewing the gum to somehow lessen the pressure on his ears.

"Which airport we are landing?" Remus inquired leafing through a tourist guide.

"It's not in there," Sirius replied. "Small, private, anonymous… you know the drill."

"Yes, of course," the reproach was obvious.

"Listen," Sirius glared at his friend. "You knew what you were getting into…"

"I am sorry," the brown eyes turned apologetic. "I know. I am just worried."

"I know," Sirius grinned and turned to Harry. "Mr. pedantic Schoolteacher just likes to be in control of everything. He's been like that since school. Me and James and," it seemed like the man stopped before saying something. "Me and James used to get into all kinds of trouble and Remus tried to talk us out of it all the time. Never succeeded, though!"

"I just like to know what is happening," Remus huffed, ignoring the remark about his character.

Harry decided that his father's best friends were two very different people who luckily levelled each other instead of clashing.

First impression of Russia was cold. Damn cold! When the boy stepped on the ramp cold air enveloped him and what he saw around was only white. He had seen snow before. It was sometimes snowing in London, but very rarely and the snow of Eastern Europe was different anyway. It was all around them, since the 'private airport' was obviously nothing more than a lane in the middle of… somewhere in front of some grey hangar which was probably where they kept the airplanes.

The rest was fields and woods drowning in snow. Like a winter wonder land.

He shuddered. Could it be any colder? And the boy almost fell on his arse as he stepped off the ramp. Luckily Sirius was right behind him and caught his godson.

"Easy, here," he laughed.

What attracted Harry's attention then were three large, black cars and large men, who were also wearing black, in front of them and then coming their way. Sirius let go of Harry who was actually shivering then and rushed in their direction.

TBC

AN: Finally a new chapter! Thank you guys who are reviewing, I really need the encouragement.

To everyone: So, what do you think about this? Am I making the story too complicated? I hope it isn't getting boring or whatever might be wrong. Tell me, please.

I am a slow writer, but the next chapter is almost ready to post, so you will not have to wait too long. I just need to polish it up and I want to see the responses to this one first.

Why I am taking so much time? – Terrible, but it's just my style. First I write something, then I read it and edit it, then I suddenly become very sure that the story is absolutely ridiculous and not good for anything. Then if I got inspiration I go and write one of my other stories or look for something good to read. After some time I finally return to the story and see it with new eyes and decide that it's kind of alright and have a lot of ideas. Then I reread and edit the chapter once more, post it and sloppily write another one and the cycle begins again.

Harry Draco Malfoy: I haven't red 'reaching for the rainbow', but when I imagine the three of them in bed… the picture I am getting is more funny than hot. Like three of them sleeping with Harry in the middle watching both carefully so that they don't do something bad to each other, Ron and Draco fighting about who would be on the top, all the bickering and jabs… and one day Harry announcing that he is leaving them for Severus Snape. I will check out that story, but I don't think the Draco of my story will ever go for anything like that. Only over his dead body – and sorry, I am not into such thing and not going to write it! Cheers!

Cuteandnice: yeah, caught me, fluffy things sneak into my fics once in a while. But Draco's decision was not that sudden, he was looking for an excuse to ruin his relationship since it started; only Harry was very patient and never demanding and there was no reason to break up. And Draco is so full of himself and so stubborn that when Harry asked him why was he with another woman the blondie lost his temper and refused to explain anything. Draco is just an ass with a lot of issues.

Tilly-Tally-Tease: Ron knew he was being used and Harry was on a rebound. And, yes, I have plans for Sirius. I am afraid that this story will be very long.

Innocent Eyes 931: You guessed right. Harry will have other people in his life and who can imagine Draco taking that well? Not me. At this point the story is kind of only starting.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title**: Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humour :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story (loosely based on). Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: It's not too bad

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Fandom does not belong to me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing, not betaedited.

A/N: I am a bit stuck with this story, meaning that I am making no promises about when I would finish it. However, I decided not to sit on the chapters that have already been written and maybe, maybe, publishing them will inspire me to write more. So here you have chapter eleven.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Harry and Remus stood watching as Sirius was enthusiastically hugging another man. Well, 'hugging' probably was not the right word. Harry's Godfather was all over the other and more like squeezing life out of the poor guy and trying to blend with him at the same time. When he finally let go (not completely though, the other man kept his hand on Sirius' shoulder) they exchanged a couple of words in a language which couldn't be anything else, but Russian. Nor Harry, nor Sirius understood a word.

Then both men strolled towards the two waiting Brits.

"Welcome, my friends, welcome," the Russian man flashed them a perfect white-toothed smile and pulled Remus Lupin into a hug as if they were old friends. However he was very soon released and the man turned towards Harry, the smile widening even more if that was possible.

"So this is the godson I have been hearing so much about? Welcome," and the dark-hired boy found himself in the man's arms. It was kind of nice at the moment, since Harry was freezing. His jacket was no good against the stinging cold that suddenly enfolded them.

"You are really a beautiful boy," Harry still blushed when someone complimented him. "A bit shy, _da_? But that's so cute. No reason to be shy though, we are a family now. Sirius' godson is my godson." – (AN: da – yes from russian.)

"Misha, stop embarrassing the Hell out of my— I mean, our godson!" Sirius exclaimed laughing. "He's seventeen, you don't go around calling seventeen years old bo-- err… men, beautiful and cute."

"Sorry, _daragoi _couldn't help myself," the man just kept grinning not looking even remotely sorry. It appeared he was really glad to see them. Harry was surprised that except the few odd words he almost couldn't hear any accent when Misha was speaking English. (AN: _daragoi _- darling)

He also noticed that Misha was quite good-looking. He was maybe some fie, six years younger than Sirius and Remus or at lest appeared to be. Misha's hair was short and wavy and very light brown, like sand at the beach. Not that Harry had ever been by the sea, but he had seen plenty of paintings and photos.

The Russian gently guided the teenager towards the cars, his arm wrapped around Harry's shoulder: "Let's get you in the car first, then we can make proper introductions and talk more, alright? You must be freezing." Even to Harry it was obvious that it had not been a question. The man acted like someone who was used to being obeyed.

Misha had flung his arm around Harry's shoulder and led them to the cars. The black monsters were some kind of landrovers or jeeps (honestly, Harry didn't know a thing about cars) obviously made for way-less areas. Not that there were no roads. There were and they looked freshly made across the snowy fields. But a big, high, powerful vehicle was definitely safer to use there. Harry couldn't imagine one of the tiny cars that were quite popular in London faring well there.

Before they got into the back of one of the cars they were each given a fur coat. Misha laughed, saying that he knew that Englishmen were sensitive to hold. He himself took the drivers seat and Harry saw the other (big) men getting into two other cars.

As soon as Misha started the car he started talking: "I should introduce myself properly, excuse me, but I just wanted to get you out of cold. My name is Mihael, Berezinski and please call me Misha. So, do you have any questions? Is there anything you want to know?"

Harry was not sure where to start. The whiteness and quantity of snow all around them was overwhelming enough for a boy who had never really been outside Surrey. He thoughtfully petted the fur of his coat; Harry had never touched real fur before. It was incredibly soft and warm, but smelt funny and Harry really didn't want to think about where it had come from.

"Where are we going to stay?" Remus Lupin managed to come up with a fairly reasonable question.

"Ah, at my mansion," Misha answered. "A bit secluded it is, about fifteen kilometres to the next town, but we have some privacy though."

"May I compliment your English," Remus continued.

"Oh, thank you very much, you see I studied in London and as you already know I have a house there. That was where you and Sirius were staying. I guess London is in fashion these days," he chuckled.

Harry couldn't miss that at one moment Misha's hand landed on Sirius', who was sitting on the front seat, thigh and stayed there as long as it was not needed for driving. Harry thought that it was kind of sweet, but then the boy remembered how it felt when someone touched you with that kind of familiarity and who had so often laid a hand on his thighalmost the same way…

Harry chased the thought away; it was pointless, it was past. He snuggled in the enormous coat and enjoyed the ride.

***

The first days in Russia were the strangest in Harry's life. He was thrown into another country with completely different lifestyle. For starters Misha Berezinski was obviously filthy rich. Harry had the largest room he had ever lived in and bathroom he shared only with Remus. The only other house so big he had seen from inside was the Malfoy Manor. But he was not going there.

This place was different. There was a lot of wood everywhere, some ornaments which could only be national. Misha explain that this was a country house and traditionally country houses were made of wood and Misha had wanted to have some kind of blend between modern and old. Harry liked it. It was cosy. The only thing he kind of minded was stuffed birds and animal heads in one of the rooms. Turned out that it was not because Misha himself hunted, but some of his friends did and stuffed animals was something one expected to see in a country house on the wall next to the huge fireplace with the bearskin in front of it.

Before showing them to their rooms, Misha announced that there was going to be a party to welcome the guests.

And there was a party. The kind of party Harry had never seen. Not that there had been many of course.

First Harry and Remus were led around and introduced to everyone. Some where Misha's friends, some were cousins, other worked for him, there were ten men altogether and twelve women who were girlfriends and sisters and cousins. Everyone was extremely friendly; some knew a bit of English, others spoke very well. As soon as Remus and Harry were seated at the long wooden table next to Misha and Sirius (who was feeling perfectly at home there) two shots of vodka were placed in front of them.

Remus looked doubtful.

"You do it like this," Sirius grinned and took a shot in his own hand. He lifted it to his lips, screwed his eyes shut, then quickly emptied the small glass tossing back his head and after opened his mouth to accept a pickle from Misha's hand. "Uh! That was strong!"

"See, you can teach him something!" Misha laughed.

Harry watched his glass with big eyes wondering if he was allowed to pass. The most he had ever had was a glass of Champagne. This was pure vodka!

"I don't think Harry should drink," Remus spoke up. "He is only seventeen." He shot Sirius an expectant look.

The man sitting next to Remus who had poured them the alcohol raised his eyebrows: "O! I thought ze boy waz fifteen!"

Someone said something in Russian and everyone laughed.

"Gena said that one shot won't hurt you," Misha translated looking amused. "Maybe it will put some hair on your chest. I will not say it is a good thing, but we do start drinking young around here. Don't understand those Americans. To wait until you are twenty one to have your first drink? We are already quitting here around that age!"

Everyone who had understood, laughed ad toasted at that.

Harry looked pleadingly at Sirius who was just grinning. He took the glass, then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and… "Oh! Oh shi…" It burned! All the way down! And the taste was awful. He started coughing and then someone pressed a glass of juice into his hand.

Harry drank a couple of gulps and sighed with relief. That **was** some strong stuff.

"See! Was not so bad!" Misha clapped him on the back, laughing good-naturedly.

"You see," Sirius explained. "Russians have this thing about drinking, if you refuse to drink with them, they say you don't respect them and if you don't respect them, they might get angry and want to give you a good thrashing."

"Well, it's no fun to drink alone," Misha mused.

"We are no alcoholics to drink alone!" Someone exclaimed. "And a party without a good fight is no fun," another voice supplied.

Remus looked a bit horrified, Harry's eyes widened as well, Misha simply shrugged with a smile and Sirius… was already reaching for another shot.

One of the young women who were sitting on the other side of table got a plate, put it in front of Harry and started putting a bit of everything on it: "You must eat something. You are too skinny. And to drink on empty stomach… and don't listen to those idiots, you don't have to drink with them if you don't want to. Men!"

Harry smiled at her. She had reminded him of Molly Weasley. Only Molly Weasley who was not older than thirty, was very slender, had the longest nails he had ever seen (crimson), most tight fitting jeans and shiniest jewellery and long, thick, shiny black hair and her make-up while a bit showy was perfect.

In fact most of the women there were very beautiful, at least they seemed beautiful to Harry, not that he was a expert. There was something different about Russian women and obviously liked clothes that looked painted on, tons of jewellery and a lot of make up. Harry kind of liked the flashiness. They looked interesting, even if a bit scary and predator-ish.

The boy was trying sort through the food he had been offered. One or another of women kept giving him names of what he was eating - _kotleti, karbonad, pirogi, kvashenaja kapusta… _ and so on. Some of it he liked very much. Harry had never tried much of foreign cuisines, despite the fact that these days it was possible to get almost everything in London, since there were probably as much foreigners as Brits, since both Weasleys and Dursleys had preferred traditional, British food. But he kind of liked most of the strange stuff.

Besides they had shrimp. Harry had always wanted to try it, but it was not like Petunia would ever feed him anything that expensive. Harry usually got beans on toast. But caviar, the boy discovered, was truly not his thing, no matter how expensive it was.

While the younger man was being roped into trying everything they had on the table by the women who could obviously be both _femme fatale_ and _mother hen_ at the same time, but, Remus tried to find out something more about Misha, by asking tactful questions about man's studies, family situation and so on.

"And what do you do for living?" He inquired innocently.

Misha smirked: "Ever heard of Russian Mafia?" Remus raised an eyebrow. One of the men at the table snorted.

"Ok, ok! Vadim here insists on spoiling my fun. No, Mafia, really, I just like playing with foreigners a bit. I am a business man. Legally. Oil. Hotels. Shares. Banks. All kind of stuff – a bit of everything. Well, my father though… nothing to do with the real mafia, no drugs or prostitution, but I think someone like you might have seen my father as a bit of gangster, _bandit_. But it was the end of eighties and the beginning of nineties, collapse of the Soviet Union. Things were a bit wild, everyone played dirty and there was no choice if one wanted to do business. If you were not strong enough, you were dead. Sometimes literally," saying that man's grey eyes looked a bit sad. "Oh, but now we are entering a new era. Things are changing. There are always risks of course, that's why I still have those big guys around; you probably noticed. But let's drink for better life!" He lifted the glass in a toast and the others joined.

"_Na zdorovie!_"

_Prozit!_

"Sirius hasn't really told us much about how you met so far," prodded Remus.

Misha's hand once again had found dark-hired man's leg. Harry had noticed that it was probably under influence of alcohol, but touches between both men had become bolder and more frequent and when they looked one at other, there was so much tenderness in their eyes.

"It's not a light topic, probably more for Sirius than for me. He spent years in that Hellhole after all," Misha squeezed other man's hand. "I was kidnapped, held there to force my father make certain decisions. In places like those one needs friends to survive. Siri had been there long enough to make some. Me, oh, I am too pretty for my own good, if you know what I mean, well, you probably don't…" he let out a laugh that sounded somewhat bitter. "But anyway, Sirius became my friend and we helped each other a lot. When father found me, I took Sirius with me and that's about it. There is a long version of the story, of course. But… maybe let's lee it for another time."

It was very clear that the man didn't want to talk about it and Remus Lupin was anything, but tactful and new when to stop.

"Hey, someone! Pour me another one!" Misha exclaimed light-heartedly. Harry noticed that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes though. He hoped it was nothing too horrible, not that Misha's past was any of his business, but… Harry realised that he had started to care for the man.

***

Later that night Misha steered Sirius into his room with his hands on the other man's hips, face buried in the crook of his neck, lips gently nibbling.

"Mmm, you can't imagine how much I wanted to touch you all night long," he murmured.

"I hate to break it to you, but you **were** constantly touching me," Sirius said leaning back into his lovers touch. "Not that I am complaining, believe me I am not…"

Misha chuckled: "Oh, but there is touching and then there is TOUCHING."

One of his hands crept under Sirius' sweater to caress his abdomen, nails scraping over the flat stomach.

"Yeah, well, you might have a point there," the dark-hired man sighed contentedly.

"Your godson doesn't mind us, does he? I thought he didn't, but then he seemed kind of sad when he was looking at us. I don't understand,"

"Perceptive as always, but, no, he doesn't mind us together, since he's as bent as you and me, buddy," Sirius nuzzled his head back into his boyfriend's neck.

"Really?"

"Yes, he is. Well at least I can tell him that his father wouldn't have minded. Since James didn't hold it against me. You know that's the kind of thing boys usually want to know…"

"Of course I know," Misha nodded in understanding. "But why is he sad like that then? At first I thought he was jealous, but I understand that I was mistaken."

"As far as I know, Harry recently split up with his boyfriend and it's obvious that he is having hard time getting over the bastard,"

Misha hmmed: "Boyfriend? Who was he? I'd like to know, so I can send someone to break his legs."

Sirius snorted: "Soon you will have to look for professional help to treat your split personality. Decide for once, if you like better to play big bad bandit or little, goody-goody business man, luv."

"Oh, shut up," Misha laughed and playfully bit on the juncture of Sirius' neck.

"But about Harry, well, I am kind of waiting for him to come to me. The thing is that when I last saw him, he was wearing a nappy and now he is a young man. I don't know him at all and I want to…" Sirius voice caught and Misha wrapped his arms around him tighter.

"You will, give it time. You will get to know him and he will love you, it is going to be alright."

"Thanks," Sirius whispered and rubbed his cheek against Mishas.

"You are very lovable and he is as well," said the Russian. "But if he has broken up with someone then we should go to the City. Take him sight-seeing, shopping, clubbing, well, you know the routine!"

"Yes, that might help,"

"And by the way those rugs the kid is wearing, I don't want to say anything, but… and why is he so small and skinny? It is kind of cute, but…"

"Well, you might need to send someone to break his relatives' legs," Sirius' voice was suddenly cold and hard.

"Explain," Misha demanded softly.

"I think those people didn't treat Harry well. I am not sure of extent of abuse, but… the fact that he ran away from then and was living with his friend's family speaks volumes."

"Then we should look into that,"

"Yes, but the harm ha bseen done. You can just see it by looking at him. He's like… when you are around him, you just want to take him in your arms and hold him tight, protect him from the world… I was not there for him, Misha! I left him!" Sirius suddenly burst out dislodging himself of his lover's embrace.

"Don't start Sirius. It was not your fault," Misha followed his lover and took his hand's in his.

"I know, but," the dark-hired man protested.

Misha shook his head; he knew his lover very well and the bouts of self-reproach and regret Sirius uses to experience and was not going to encourage that: "No, _buts_, you did what you could, you survived, you returned to him and now he will never be alone again. Even if something happens to you, he will not be alone, I will be there for him and if something happens to me, then you friend Remus will be there. It's going to be alright."

With a smile Sirius brought Misha's hands up to his lips to kiss the man's knuckles: "What would I do without you?"

"You would be simply miserable," Misha said, gently kissing the other man on the lips, one hand sliding up and down Sirius' side under the t-shirt. "You are still too thin," he noted, as a matter of fact.

"I am fine," Sirius' voice sounded a bit breathless as he tilted his head giving other's lips better access to his neck. "Shut up, and do your job."

"My job? So you intend to pay me? Because a job is something one gets paid for," Misha teased.

"Mmm, oh, I will repay you alright. That is a promise. Probably with interest."

"That interest sounds like it could really interest me…"

"Bed…"

"Yes, bed."

***

They spent about week at the country house. Harry was not bored at all. He had plenty of time getting to know his godfather, Remus and Misha. They cooked together – Misha was teaching Harry how to cook some very tasty Russian meals. They watched DVDs, rode snow-bikes, went to the woods to feed deer - it turned out that if the winter was especially severe and there was a lot of snow, people often brought the animals hay and roots. Of course, they were interested to keep them alive to hunt them later, but well… Harry had never seen wild animals so close before and found it all very exciting.

They also made a snow man and had at least one snow-fight every day and Harry played video games for the first time in his life.

However Russian lifestyle was much different.

Remus almost got an aneurism as someone proposed to go outside and shoot some tins.

"You mean shoot as shoot using guns?" The man asked disbelievingly.

"Sure!" Misha confirmed happily and a man whose name was Vadim came upstairs from the basement holding three pistols and boxes with bullets.

"Have you ever held a gun Harry?" Misha inquired. The boy just shook his head. He had never expected anything like this. "Well, we have a shooting-gallery in the basement in case you want to practice, but out in the open air, with tins... it's just more fun, you know?"

"Do you think it's wise," Remus tried. "Harry is only seventeen. He has never even held a gun in his hand. It is dangerous. And one needs a licence..."

"Oh, relax," Ivan, one of the bodyguards interrupted him. "We are professionals. Nothing will happen to him, we will watch. Every man has to learn to handle a gun. And Boss could get him a licence, right Boss?" The man looked at Misha who was just smiling innocently. It seemed that in Russia one could get a lot of things if they had enough money.

Remus looked at Sirius questioningly.

"Nothing to worry about Remi, they know what they are doing," Sirius was no support.

"But what will happen when people will hear the noise," Remus argued.

"Not a problem," Misha put an arm around his shoulder. "There are not many people around and most of them know how to mind their own business. It's just a bit of harmless fun."

And of course nothing bad happened in the end. Still, Harry sometimes felt very sorry for poor Remus who was forced to put up with Sirius, who sometimes acted like a big child, was quite adventurous and whose idea of fun was doing risky things. Then there was Misha who was much more responsible than his lover, ad the adult in the relationship, but seemed to have different way of thinking, didn't believe in the same restrictions and obviously lacked some limitations.

When Harry had told him that shooting tins had been kind of fun, the man had offered to get him a gun with all the necessary papers. That time Sirius had put his foot down. When one of the guys had learned that Harry had never smoked, everyone who did smoke in the room had offered him a cigarette, saying that one had to try everything. And no one had even mentioned that the fact that Harry was underage when they had went out for the first time. He was always treated like an adult who could decide if he wanted something or not. Except when someone cracked a joke about his size or one of the older men playfully threw him over the shoulder or easily manhandled in some other way.

Harry thought that Misha was the way he was partially, because he was rich. Draco had been the same, had known that he could afford more than others. But the other part of it was the culture. People were just a little different. A little wilder. Misha had tried to explain differences which he was more aware of, since he had spent some time abroad.

"We, Russians, like showing off," he said. "For example in Norway or Finland, if you have a lot of money, you work harder to look like your average citizen, have the same middle-class car, middle-class clothes, middle-class house. Here, when you are rich, or worse, suddenly become rich, you buy the biggest and most expensive car you can get and pay for your wife to have a boob-job." Harry giggled at that. Russian women were a particular kind. He had yet to see one who was not wearing make-up and high-heels.

"Ah," Misha remembered. "There was this old joke, that a Russian woman may not have an apartment where to live, but she definitely will have a fur coat. Oh, but we have very nice shops in Moscow, all the best and most expensive brands. Just wait until I take you shopping!"

And Misha kept his promise.

***

"These jeans will look perfect on you," Misha decided after holding said item of clothing next to Harry for a couple of moments to see if they would fit and then tossed it at the one of his ever present body guards who was already carrying an impressive pile of clothing.

"I think this is enough for now," Misha mused looking at the mountain of clothes, Leonid was holding. "Off to the fitting room you go," he playfully smacked Harry's butt, pushing him into the right direction.

"I'll have to try on all of that?" Harry's eyes had gotten very large.

"Of course, kid," Sirius came up to them and threw one more t-shirt at Leonid. "And model it for us. We can't really trust you to choose your own clothes, can we? You'll pick out something skimpy and trampish and I won't have any time for myself anymore, forced to chase away all the men who will constantly be after your little , cute ass."

Harry groaned. "You just didn't say that, Sirius, no, you didn't it was a sound hallucination," he looked pained.

"Be nice, Siri," Misha playfully smacked his boyfriend on the back of his head.

"Ouch," the dark hired man pouted. "Domestic abuse!"

Misha snorted: "You are lucky that Remus didn't come with us."

Harry smiled, they were so amusing. Sirius seemed like he didn't take anything seriously, which was not exactly true; it was more like he tried to make everyone's life brighter and actually managed. He made Harry laugh what seemed at least once in every ten minutes. Harry had never seen anyone with so much spirit, such strong will to live and enjoy life.

He pulled on the first pair of washed-out jeans and a green shirt and turned around to look in the mirror.

Oh.

He looked so tidy and nice. And was feeling a bit naked without at least two loose-fitting layers of clothing, without his hoody, a baseball-cap and thick glasses. He was so used to hiding. The person in the mirror was not the Harry he had known for most of his life. But then, so much had happened and Harry really wasn't that Harry anymore.

He was not so afraid of people anymore, not afraid to take on the whole world if he had to. He was not a freak like Dursleys had told him. If he was freak, then Sirius and Misha were supposed to be freaks as well and they were not, they were happy together and no one who saw the could call their relationship wrong. Harry no longer had to fear that he would turn out like his 'useless, good-for-nothing parents,' because his parents had been good, no, even wonderful people who had loved him. Harry didn't have to fear that no one will ever love him anymore. Sirius loved him, Remus loved him and Misha loved him. And Ron, Ron loved him too.

Harry felt a pang of guilt for every time he had felt doubt, been scared that he will wake up one day and they would be gone or wouldn't want him anymore. He had told Sirius about the Dursleys, he had never spoke to anyone about them, never really cried about it, not since he was still a child. And it had felt good to talk about it, to get it out. And Sirius had cried as well and promised to never leave him. And Harry believed his godfather.

For the first time in his life Harry felt like he could trust someone and rely on someone.

Yes, he decided. Looking like another person was alright, because he was slowly becoming another person. He was getting rid of scared, little ragamuffin who was smacked around by Vernon Dursley. Harry was not the boy who had felt so inadequate in presence of the perfect Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, thinking of whom, his heart still skipped a beat. But it had not been the perfection he had loved so much.

Oh, Harry was a man and human. He had loved that handsome face, that gorgeous body and enjoyed how skilled as a lover Draco had been. But what he had really held on had been all the little imperfections which had been hidden too well to public eye. Impeccable self-confidence, aloofness, arrogance – all of that was a façade. Harry had his suspicions about what was going on in the back-yard. There was pain, some kind of deep hurt which caused all the anger which was directed at everyone. At his age Draco was still a teenager who was angry at the world for some injustice that it had done to him and believed that no one understood him. And then there had been loneliness. Loneliness Harry had shared. Loneliness Harry had wanted to chase away…

But Draco hadn't let him. He had pushed Harry away. Strangely, but the more he was thinking about it… Harry felt almost sorry for Draco. Strangely, because he had been the one who had been shamelessly cheated on and thrown away like an old shoe. He had felt used.

However Harry had a suspicion that the pain Draco had caused him was nothing compared to how much the man was hurting himself. Draco probably didn't even realise that. But one thing was clear – it was impossible to help someone, to save anyone who didn't accept help.

Then the teenager pushed all the thoughts of Draco Malfoy and man's problems out of his head. Draco had chosen to be alone. It was none of Harry's business anymore, he was going to be selfish and enjoy the new and better life he had been given.

Harry was not going to make that mistake. He had accepted Sirius, he had taken the offered hand. Harry suspected that he had to be pretty messed up after his terrible childhood. He was not sure in which ways or what to do about it. But the boy had a feeling that, whatever his father's two best friends and Misha were doing, was helping.

"Wow!" Sirius whistled as his godson came out of the fitting room, making Harry's cheeks redden. "If you were not my godson…"

"Don't you think it's too…" Harry's voice trailed of.

"It's perfect," Misha looked at the young man approvingly. "Every gay man has to own at least one pair of leather trousers. Well, at least every fit gay man," he shuddered as if remembering something. "And you definitely have a body for them."

"Oh, yeah," Sirius chirped. "He has body for pretty much everything. There is nothing that would make his ass fat!"

Harry smirked.

"Ah, old men and their insecurities," he said turning around and returning into the fitting room.

Sirius jaw hit the floor, he gave Harry an outraged look. He had not been expecting that.

Misha almost doubled over as he burst out laughing.

"Hey!" Sirius looked at his lover, offended.

"Oh, that was so…" Misha giggled. "You have only yourself to blame, _daragoi_. You have been teasing the poor boy mercilessly. He's not a stupid kid; he was bound to learn how to use your weapons and turn them against you."

"But that's unfair," Sirius whined.

"Life is not fair, _daragoi_," Misha smiled and decided to placate his lover with a kiss.

***

"Do we still have those glasses and one of his oversized hoodies somewhere," Sirius asked Misha watching his godson sitting at the computer and typing an email to Ron which he had wanted to send before they left.

"No, we threw them out."

"I want them back," Sirius announced.

"Oh, really," Misha raised an amused eyebrow.

"Yes, really," Sirius grumbled. "They will eat him alive. Just look at him…"

Harry wasn't wearing anything special. Tight fitting, light blue designer jeans which were torn just in a couple of places and looked like they had been worn for years, not just bought. Simple black boots, black belt and a white form-fitting t-shirt. He had eagerly traded the glasses for contacts and gotten a hair-cut. His hair was much shorter than before now, but not too short. Harry didn't even had to do anything with it – his hair looked like it had been just mussed, or windblown, which was an effect a lot of guys worked hard to achieve. But the boy didn't need any products to make it look good.

Well, that was actually Sirius' problem. His godson looked good enough to eat. He was lithe and looked a bit feminine, cute and adorably innocent and fresh. Besides even if boy looked petite, his muscles were nicely toned from all the housework and gardening, supposedly, there was just no bulk. For many guys he was a wet dream come true. He was perfect. Naturally Sirius had doubts about letting the boy out of house, looking like that. Not speaking about a nightclub.

"Don't worry," Misha reassuringly squeezed his lover's hand. "Leonid will not let him out of sight."

The body guard, who was standing nearby, dressed in jeans and shirt as well, to blend in, murmured something in Russian.

"Er, he says that if someone will try to grope him, he will break his arm," Misha translated for Remus' benefit.

"Oh, but we could always say that Remus here is Harry's very jealous boyfriend," Sirius winked at his friend.

"Not a chance," Remus smiled mischievously. "I find the thought disconcerting and I have always had this fantasy with two bored lesbians who were looking for someone to spice up their relationship."

"Hey, Remi, you old devil!" Sirius patted his friend on the back approvingly. "I personally have never understood why would someone want to sleep with one woman. But two… that's just…"

"Every straight guy's fantasy," Remus replied nonchalantly.

"And there goes my hope that at least one of the father figures in my life was a moral person," said Harry who had finished his letter and now was standing next to them.

"It's not polite to listen to grown-ups' conversations," Remus looked at the boy, with amusement. "And there is nothing wrong with threesomes as long as everyone is a consenting adult."

"Ah," Harry smirked. "So you wouldn't mind if I picked of good-looking Russian guys tonight?"

"Tsk, Harry," Sirius wriggled a finger at him. "Didn't you know that in this family you reach adulthood when you turn thirty?"

Harry just laughed.

"So, Misha, Sirius, Remus - show me the life then!" He exclaimed giving them a brilliant smile.

***

Harry shouldn't have doubted that he would get into the club. No questions asked. He was kind of used to good life, good things. That if he wanted something he just had to mention it and he would get it. The thing was, that Harry was not used to having more than bare minimum and wouldn't have known what to ask for. He had been so damn happy when Ginny had given him a pair of her old jeans which didn't fit her well and had been ecstatic when he got a box of oil-paint from Draco. That had been more presents than he had ever received already.

He would have never thought that he needed new clothes on his own. But Sirius, Misha and Remus hadn't listened to Harry's objections even when he had gotten worried about the money. Misha had threatened to become very angry if the boy didn't drop the topic. Harry hadn't had much choice.

He also wouldn't have thought of going out. Especially, since technically he was not allowed yet. And were one's guardians supposed to take one out and introduce him to nightlife? Apparently Sirius and Misha thought it was a great idea. Harry had a feeling that his godfather was overcompensating or something.

As Harry and his companions stepped through the door, the boy's eyes widened. He didn't know where to look. Standing on the red carpet they were greeted by deafening wave of music, blinding lights and crowds of people. All of it was simply overwhelming.

He absentmindedly allowed Leonid to take his jacket, while his eyes were darting in all the directions in quest to take everything in. God, but they even had a fountain there! Well, not a fountain, but a wall of water, which as far as Harry was concerned was even grander.

He had never considered himself the partying type, but then, a lot of things had changed He was a seventeen years old boy after all.

"So, Harry," Sirius leaned over his shoulder. "Here are some ground rules. Don't get drunk. Don't go anywhere without Leonid or better, just don't go anywhere and err…" he appeared to be thinking what else to forbid.

"Don't dance with guys who look about Sirius' age, they are too old for you," Remus supplied.

"Yes, don't dance with old… wait a minute!" The dark-hired man suddenly realised what he had said as everyone started laughing.

"Oh, shut up! Well, you understood," Sirius snapped angrily. He was trying to give fatherly advice there. "Well, don't do anything I wouldn't do…" he tried. That one was kind of classics, right?

"Which means you can do pretty much everything," the so called best friend was obviously in a good mood today.

Sirius glared at Remus: "Oh, look who is feeling very funny tonight! Let's see what you have to say!"

"Harry," Remus smiled at the boy. "Enjoy yourself, but be careful. If there is a problem instantly go to Leonid or one of us. And don't accept drinks from anyone, but the barmen, alright?"

Harry nodded. Sirius huffed. His advice had not been so bad after all. But he instantly mellowed as he felt Misha's arms around his waist. This was one of their favourite positions, Sirius leaning back against his lover's chest.

"Let's go sit down,' Misha suggested. "I made a reservation."

They all took a booth and ordered drinks. Harry hadn't really intended to get drunk, so he simply ordered some sparkling water. He liked that.

Just to watch all those people interacting and dancing was fascinating. Strange enough most of them were male couples or at least Harry was paying them most of his attention. The way they danced… well it was good that the room was semi-dark, because the teenager was sure that once again he was blushing. And aunt Petunia had complained about M-tv preying upon her poor Dudley's virtue… But the people on Mtv had had more clothes on and their moves had been less obscene than what he could see here.

It made him feel really strange. Harry felt a bit badly about watching, like a voyeur or something, but on the other hand, he could not tear his eyes off the dancers and the suggestive moves they were making. The boy was grateful that no one could see his flushed cheeks in the dark.

Then some men approached their table. Misha stood up smiling broadly and shook hands with them and they talked about something in their language. Harry noticed that the strangers were shamelessly checking out all the other men sitting at the table. Really shamelessly, since even Harry noticed. He also noticed how Misha instantly put his hand on Sirius' shoulder. Oh, the Russian was definitely possessive enough. And protective. While the man seemed to be very easy going, Harry had noticed the fierceness hard glint in his eyes sometimes when Misha was talking with some of his people in Russian. Harry suspected that he could be not very nice when it was necessary.

Then Misha turned towards Harry. "Harry," he smiled. "This is Sergey, he would like to dance with you, if you don't mind of course."

The emphasis was obviously on 'if you don't mind'. Harry looked at the man he was being introduced to; he was quite tall, with darkish skin, black hair, handsome and smiling pleasantly at the boy. Why not? Harry thought and nodded blushing. He was not used to people paying him attention like that.

He stood up, his heart beat picking up. This was like the first time he was so casually asked to dance after all and he was a bit nervous. The man offered Harry his hand and the boy took it. He glanced back at Sirius, Remus and Misha and didn't see any signs of disapproval. Yes, Sirius was a bit apprehensive, but not trying to glare the bloke out of existence. Not that he thought, Misha would ever let him go with someone unsafe.

Harry took a deep breath trying to calm his nerves and followed along the stranger towards the dance floor, shooting shy glances at his partner.

Before joining the dancers, they stepped and the guy turned towards Harry: "I think it would be polite to introduce myself personally. Hello, I am Sergey." The dark-hired man shook the hand he had been already holding.

"Erm, hi, I am Harry,"

"Hi, Harry," Sergey had a very nice smile. Then Harry was pulled amidst people who were dancing with skill and enthusiasm the teenager thought he didn't possess.

Sergey leaned closer to talk on Harry's ear; to communicate otherwise would be impossible since it was too loud all around them: "Don't worry; I won't do anything you don't want me to. Relax. I can feel that you are tense. No need to be scared of me."

"No, it's not that," Harry had to stand on tiptoe, to reach taller man's ear. "I'm just not sure… I mean, I don't know how to dance."

The man laughed: "Oh, no need to worry, that's the good thing abut this kind of dancing, you don't have to learn any steps, just feel the music."

He took Harry's hands in his and put the boy's palms on his shoulders and his own hands on the slim hips and made his partner to swing them a bit. Then again and again until bit by bit Harry started to relax and soon enough found himself dancing. It all just kind of pulled him in, the crowd, the rhythm, the music. The other man's body. letting himself go, touching, being touched by Sergey, Harry decided that he truly was gay and he decided that dancing was really fun.

Sergey's hands on his body were getting bolder and bolder, it was getting hotter and Harry's pulse was speeding up. But he somehow didn't really care if the other man could feel his excitement, because the attraction was mutual.

"You are doing very well, for someone who is new to all of this," the dark-hired man again whispered on the boy's ear, his breathing slightly uneven. "Let's take a break, have something to drink or I might do something that would get my arms or other parts of my anatomy broken by your uncle Misha."

Harry nodded; they have given anyone who bothered to watch enough show already. But after they were off the dance floor and approaching the bar, he grabbed other man by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer, so Sergey could hear what he was saying: "But, just so you know, I might make it worth a damaged limb or two…"

Harry saw the man bite his lip and the sight of his eyes darkening made excitement wash over him.

He knew he had gotten the massage across. Harry was not such a little, naïve boy anymore and he was ready to prove that.

TBC

**A/N**: I wanted Harry to go somewhere. In canon most of the foreigners come from France or Romania. I have never cared for France, their language and I don't understand them and don't know much about their lifestyle. Romania – I know even less. But I am familiar with Russia, so I went for it. Do I have any Russian readers?

I was not sure in how much details to go when writing about Harry's time in Russia, but… it is as it is.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title**: Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humour :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story (loosely based on). Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: It's not too bad

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Fandom does not belong to me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing, not betaedited.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

"Harry, Viktor called while you were gone, why weren't you picking up your mobile?"

"Oh, hi, Siri," Harry greeted his godfather tossing his dark brown canvas shoulder-bag on the sofa. "I was at the museum, I switched it off, didn't want to disturb anyone. Myself included. I don't want to answer any calls while I am at the museum. And don't say anything, Leonid is always around, so if YOU want to check on me, you can call him."

"I guess that's fair," Sirius waved the boy off. "But what's with Victor?"

Harry sighed and looked at his godfather speculatively: "Are you sure you want to discuss it? Are you really sure?"

Harry's love life was something Sirius was still getting used to. The first time the older man had realised that the 'boy' was actually a young man hadn't been exactly pleasant.

When Harry had gone to the bathroom with Sergey and come back flushed and looking just shagged and with a betraying love-bite on his neck, it had been pretty obvious to Sirius what had happened. The man had freaked out and almost pounced at Sergey. Harry had been forced to point out that he was not a blushing virgin and knew what he was doing well enough and Sirius was overacting.

It had been just a hand-job in the bathroom. Of course to say 'just' would not be right, because it had been the first time Harry had done such thing and at first he had not believed his own daring, but then the nature had taken over so to say and… and now Harry's godfather was embarrassing him in front of Misha and Sergey and everyone who wanted to watch.

Sirius hadn't quite agreed that he was overacting and Harry had lost his temper and said that if he wanted to have one off with someone, he had right to. It was something Harry had discovered recently – his temper. He had never dared to show that he was angry and raise his voice at someone.

The ride home had been a strained affair. Sirius had been angry with Misha for not taking his side. Remus had waited for everyone to calm down and Harry had completely shrunk into himself, shaken by the fact that he had shouted at Sirius.

It had come down to Harry knocking on Sirius' door in the middle of night with tears in his eyes, saying that he was sorry and he wouldn't do it again and that he didn't want Sirius to think that he was a slut, he had just gotten carried away. Harry had almost begged his godfather not to hate him. Sirius had been horrified that Harry could possibly think that.

He had taken the boy in his arms and explained that he hadn't really blamed Harry for anything, that he had been angry at Sergey for taking advantage of his godson and that he had been worried and, yes, probably Sirius had overreacted. He had explained that there were no parent who would ever truly agree that their child was old enough to be having sex and Harry looked very young and was innocent in many ways and Sirius was feeling a bit overprotective and it had all come out wrong.

Misha who had been sharing bedroom with Sirius had pointedly added that he seriously doubted that Sirius himself had not been having sex at Harry's age. Sirius hadn't been able to lie to the boy about that, but had tried to object that it had been different, but had not been able to explain how.

Misha had pointedly looked at his lover that he was being a bit of hypocrite and as long as Harry was not being coerced and forced to do things he was not comfortable with, they didn't have right to interfere, because they both had done the same thing and most of the teenage boys were doing it and berating a young in public thus humiliating him had not been appropriate.

Sirius had objected that there was no way for him to know that Harry was not being coerced. At that moment Harry had calmed down enough to join the conversation and had pointed out, that he would know that he was being coerced. When Sirius hadn't been convinced, Harry had told them that he had had a boyfriend with whom he had done pretty much everything two men could do together and was not ignorant. He hadn't wanted of course. The confession had been unwilling, since Harry had never really talked about Draco with his stepfathers'.

Sirius had gotten angry again, demanding to know the name of the prick that had used his godson like that and then dropped him. Besides saying that it hadn't been like that, Harry had refused to talk about it. Adamantly. To himself, the boy had wondered if Sirius had been right though. The fact that he had agreed to be used didn't mean that he hadn't been used.

In the end Sirius had said that he understood that Harry was young and he wanted to explore. But he had to promise that he wouldn't do anything foolish. He had scooped Harry up in his arms, carried to his room, brought the boy a damp washcloth to wipe his tear-streaked face and put the boy to bed, like a child, Harry still was for him.

Then Harry had almost started crying again, because never in his life anyone had put him to bed. No one had made sure if he was comfortable, no one had tucked him in, smoothed down his hair and kissed him on the forehead. Never.

He had seen Aunt Petunia tucking in Dudley; he had watched it many times, secretly hiding behind the stair rails. It had been easy, because he had been very small and had been forced to learn stealth at very young age. His aunt had sweetly cooed at her little boy, she had read him a book until Dudley had fallen asleep and had kissed hi on the forehead just before leaving.

After a while he had stopped spying on his aunt and cousin. It had hurt too much to return to his dark, lonely cupboard after seeing that.

Sometimes Harry wished he could simply forget the past which kept coming back to hunt him…

"Harry," Sirius' voice pulled the boy out of his reverie. "I told you that I have gotten over the fact that you are having a… a love life."

Harry wouldn't have used a word 'love', but he didn't point it out. He didn't want to have another argument.

"So what's with Victor?" Sirius repeated the question.

The boy winced. He didn't want to discuss Viktor either, but Sirius was not going to leave him alone.

"Victor wants something more." He stated unemotionally.

Sirius' face lit up: "Oh, isn't that a good thing?" He liked Viktor Krum or the fact that since Harry had met him he hadn't been with anyone else, as the boy's godfather, he hoped that Harry could find someone he really liked and go steady with said someone. Someone like Viktor.

"No, it's not really a good thing," Harry made a face. "I told him from the start, that I was not looking for anything serious. Obviously he had forgotten that."

"But you like him, don't you?" Sirius sounded hopeful.

"Well enough," Harry's tone was still dispassionate.

"Well enough to give him a chance or well enough to…"

"The second one," Harry cut the man off.

Sirius sighed. Whoever Harry's previous boyfriend had been, he had fucked the boy up big time. For him the young man seemed to be the type to want to be in relationship, to commit. He didn't like what his godson was doing. Not because he condemned Harry or thought less of him because he wanted to party and have some fun. He, himself had been a lot worse. Sirius just hadn't wanted to be tied down. Or in other words, he had simply been wild.

Harry however had been hurt and was obviously trying to get over it the wrong way. But he was not ready to hear that. The boy was as stubborn as James had been.

"Anyway," Harry shrugged pulling at his now shorter hair. "We are leaving the next week, aren't we? So the problem would solve itself, right?"

With that the boy walked out of the room to find a sketch pad. After one of his numerous visits to one of the wonderful museums or galleries one could find in Moscow, he was always inspired. Harry hadn't been idle on his long vacation, not at all. As soon as Misha had found out that Harry had been studying art, he had found him a teacher and a very good one as well. He was almost sorry to leave Russia for that reason.

Almost.

Harry really missed his friends. Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys.

***

One week later…

Harry had unpacked all the bags in his new suite at Misha's London house. It had turned out to be a bit of a chore. Funny how things had changed. Harry Potter had left London with one duffel bag (borrowed from the Weasleys) over his shoulder, but had returned with several bags stuffed with clothes so expensive that he didn't even want to think about it. But he had discovered that one got used to good things very fast.

He walked downstairs and into the kitchen where they had decided to have a meeting to discuss further plans. Remus and Sirius were sitting at the kitchen table and Misha wearing a dark blue apron was working by the cooker.

"Need a hand?" Harry offered.

"Oh, not really, I have almost finished," Misha waved him off. "But you could set the table." Harry nodded and started checking the closest dresser searching for plates.

When the table was set and the food was on the table surprisingly Remus was the first who spoke up: "I had a post box here in London. For all the things people may send me while I am abroad. Bank statements and such. I went through it and well, I found something interesting there."

He put on the table a large, brown envelope with a logo of some kind of bird on the corner of it: "It's from some kind of strange organisation I have never heard of – The Order of Phoenix."

"What do they want?" Sirius mumbled and three other men shot him reproachful looks, since he was trying to speak while chewing on his grilled fish.

"They are asking about Harry," Remus frowned. "And, that's not all. It turns out the man, who is the head of said Order of Phoenix is the Headmaster of Hogwarts University, the one Harry was attending."

"I don't like it," was the only thing Misha said catching Sirius' eyes.

"It is suspicious," Remus agreed. "The letter claims that they are looking for one of their students who had unexpectedly disappeared and they are contacting me since I am… was a close friend of his father's."

"That's not a common knowledge," Sirius looked worried. "I mean, it's not something they are supposed to know."

"Exactly," Remus agreed. "They are also offering assistance with some problems that might arise with Harry's coming of age. That certainly implies that whoever those people are, they know a lot more than they are supposed to," Remus sighed.

"I have seen the Headmaster," Harry spoke up. "He's very, very old, has a long white beard and, well, he looks kind of grandfatherly. I don't think that he could be evil."

Misha gave the boy a look that said – 'you are very young and naïve, but it's alright, we will take care of everything for you.'

"Listen," Harry insisted. "He is offering help, isn't he? We need to start somewhere anyway I think we should hear them out. Look what he wants, not revealing anything about ourselves of course." No one looked convinced.

"Come on, I went to that school for a whole semester, if the Headmaster had wanted to hurt me, he had plenty of opportunities. That kind of speaks in his favour, doesn't it? And if he's a potential ally… It certainly looks like he knows something, doesn't it? Maybe he's a good guy."

"Mhm, you know, guys, he has a point…" Sirius grumbled. "Didn't realise you were so smart, kid."

Harry beamed at his godfather his cheeks flushing with pride.

***

It had been decided that Misha and Remus would be the ones to meet the mysterious Albus Dumbledore, because Harry was the one the man was trying to get to and they didn't know for what reasons and they didn't want unnecessary alert anyone of Sirius' presence.

To meet at the school didn't seem dangerous; surely even if the Order of Phoenix turned out not to be friends, but enemies, they were not about to attack them at Hogwarts. Of course to be safe, Remus and Misha were going to have some of Misha's ever present body guards with them.

Harry, Sirius and Remus had gotten used to being 'followed'. It had been strange in the beginning, but the Russian had refused to listen to any objections, especially from Harry, and there was a reason for his paranoia.

The plan was for Remus and Misha were going to meet Dumbledore, but Harry and Sirius were to stay at home waiting for their return.

Unfortunately, it meant waiting.

Harry busied himself with some sketching, but his godfather, who was the impatient one, was trying very hard to find something interesting enough to busy himself with, while waiting for his lover's and best friend's return. By the time Remus and Misha came home he had managed to annoy Harry just a little bit, which was accomplishment, because Harry had a patience of a saint.

"Thanks, God! You're home! How did it go?" Sirius was almost bouncing with excitement.

Misha smiled and gave his lover the kind of look that said 'I love you so damn match just the way you are': "Let us take off our shoes at least, alright?"

They all sat down and Remus started telling them what had happened: "I think most of our worries were unfounded. Misha has his doubts, but I think Albus Dumbledore is a good, old man." The Russian man rolled his eyes; he was suspicious, not by nature, but because he had seen bad things happen to people who were not careful enough.

"Apparently, the Headmaster knew your grandfather, Harry," Remus continued. "I am not sure how though. He also revealed that James was supposed to attend Hogwarts, but as you know he had to take over the family estate, so his studies were postponed and after.. well, you know what happened. Anyway, professor Dumbledore said that you Harry would have been invited to attend Hogwarts in any case, even if you hadn't applied for the scholarship. He claims that he had wanted to keep an eye on you, considering what happened to James and Lily…"

"Does he know anything about that?" Harry exclaimed anxiously.

"Hold on, we'll get to it," Remus chided. "So, the headmaster was watching you and as he said, watching Harry to find out if someone was watching him. That was why he didn't approach you before; he didn't want to endanger you unnecessary. I don't think I agree that not warning you about danger was the right course, but apparently Dumbledore believed that ignorance was bliss. However, he did intend to approach you sooner or later. And then you vanished and he had lost the chance."

"About his organization," Misha took over. "Looks like it's some kind of private agency or foundation, if you wish, which does whatever the old man tells them. In this case, he offers us help in dealing with the man he thinks might be our common enemy…"

"He didn't put it like that…" Remus objected shooting worried glances at Harry and Sirius. He obviously hadn't wanted to reveal everything to those two.

"No, maybe he didn't, but he has been looking into what happened to Harry's parents and had his suspicions about your travels, Siri. And he has an idea who might be standing behind everything and he thinks that with our help he might have a chance to get back at them."

"Who?" Sirius and Harry asked in one voice.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle,"

"Never heard of him," murmured Sirius.

"Me neither," Remus agreed. "But professor Dumbledore claims that he is a very dangerous and powerful man who had done a lot of wrong and is connected to your cousin Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Bella?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "And of course, she is the one who is controlling the Black fortune at the moment. Don't believe it's a coincidence."

"Yes," Misha nodded. "He obviously has some dirt on that Riddle guy. More than we could dig up on our own. I think he will be a good ally and doesn't seem like a type who would want in return more than we are ready to pay for his help. He just wants Riddle gone. I have a feeling that Dumbledore for some reason has been on Riddle's case for years," concluded Misha. This was Misha who meant business.

"If you say so," Sirius shrugged and looked at Remus and Harry. They didn't seem to be having any objections.

"What happens now?" Harry asked still feeling a bit confused. So he had a name. Finally. Tom Riddle. But it was just a name. It didn't have a face or character. Harry wanted to hate the man who was probably the one who stole his happy childhood and fifteen years off Sirius' life. But couldn't. it was all too impersonal

"Now," Misha drawled. "We will be meeting up with a barrister in Dumbledore's employ who will help us to sort out Harry's inheritance and Sirius' legal problems as well."

***

Once again they were waiting. For some reason Albus Dumbledore hadn't simply told them the address, but had insisted on sending one of his people. Dumbledore was kind of strange though. Probably it had something to do with his age, if not, then they were in serious trouble.

Furthermore - whoever was supposed to join them was late. When the doorbell finally rang the three men were more than ready to go. Sirius had already gotten impatient and twitchy.

Misha gave a sign to one of his body guards to get the door. Leonid flexed his muscular shoulders, then walked to the door and looked through the spy-hole and nodded at his boss. Apparently, whoever was standing outside seemed safe enough to be let inside. As he opened the door Leonid's fast reflexes was the only thing that kept the young woman on the other side from sprawling down on the floor, since she rather stumbled into the house than stepped.

"Oh, thanks, man! Now, that was embarrassing," The young woman laughed as she straightened her clothes. Oh, but she was quite young. Maybe not as young as she looked because of her casual clothing (jeans, t-shirt and a burgundy red leather jacket) and shockingly pink hair. Certainly not what they had expected.

"And you would be..." Remus was as polite as always.

"Tonks," she grinned. "Well, it's Nymphadora Tonks, but don't you dare to call me in any other name than Tonks and we will get on nicely, 'key?"

Harry nodded understandingly. Nymphadora. He could sympathise.

"So you are the one..."

"The one Albus sent for you, yeah," she nodded. "But not for the reason you think, not that I know what you are really thinking, but, oh, whatever..." She turned towards Sirius and her grin widened, if it was possible. "The old codger just wanted us to have a bit of a family reunion, cousin."

Sirius' eyes widened: "Cousin?"

"Oh, yes!" The young woman beamed at him. "My mum's Andromeda Black."

"Andy?" Sirius exclaimed excitedly. "You are Andy's little girl?"

"Yes, I am!" And then they were both laughing and hugging and talking to each other exuberantly.

Misha's and Harry's eyes met; they could definitely see the family resemblance.

They didn't have much time to waste, so further introductions happened in the car. They found out that Tonks' mother was Sirius' cousin and the only one he actually liked. She had been worried about Sirius and that way they had met Albus Dumbledore and Tonks, who worked in the police department, by the way, had agreed to join The Order of Phoenix, since they also hunted down criminals.

Finally they had reached their destination – an old building with grey facade. Harry thought it fit a barrister's office perfectly. So serious.

***

When they walked into the barrister's office on the third floor, Harry thought that the room was exactly how he had imagined it. The walls were done in light colours, there was leather sofa for clients who had to wait an abstract painting on the wall and even a secretary sitting at her table.

When they came in, the young woman instantly got up and hurried to greet them: "Hello, my name is Virginia. How can I help you?"

"Hello, how are you?" Misha answered. "We have an appointment at eleven."

"Of course. Mr. Snape is already waiting for you," Virginia led the three man and the teenage boy to the door and opened it for them.

"Who?" Sirius exclaimed.

"Erm… Mr. Snape," Virginia was obviously confused seeing Sirius's sudden outburst.

"It can't be…" Sirius mumbled. Then he turned towards Remus. "It can't be, right?"

"Well, I am not sure…" Remus looked like he really didn't know what to say.

"What's the matter?" Misha inquired, always being alert to new information.

"Nothing. Probably. We'll see," Sirius said darkly.

"Then let's go, see the barrister," but it was obvious that Misha was already wary.

When the door opened, the first thing Harry noticed was that this part of the office was considerably darker than the waiting-room. The walls were covered with dark-green wall-paper and the flooring was dark grey. A bit gloomy.

And then his eyes came to rest on the owner of the office. The man wearing a black suit which seemingly still lost out compared to man's hair and eyes. Harry froze in horror. He knew the man, they had met before and the tall, dark man was not someone who could be mistaken for anybody else.

However it was Sirius, whose reaction to the barrister was the most expressive.

"Snape!" He exclaimed looking somewhat angry, somewhat disturbed.

The man's lips looked even thinner as he sneered in distaste and eyes bore into the person who he despised like no one other. Black.

"Let me assure you, I am also **not** glad to see you again. I was truly hoping that the earth had opened and swallowed your worthless self."

Harry gaped. Snape was the rudest person he had ever met!

"Oh, you…!" Sirius had balled his hands into fists and sputtering unattractively.

Remus was the one who put a calming hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Hello, Severus," he said a bit tersely. "Was that really necessary?"

"Ah, Lupin, still the peacemaker," Snape snorted shuffling the papers on the heavy table.

"What is going on here?" Sirius demanded.

"And what do you think is going on here, Black?" Snape's voice was dripping with sarcasm, hinting at the fact that he didn't think highly of Sirius' mental faculties. "I am a barrister. Albus tried to convince me that you needed one?"

"Yes, but…" Sirius was obviously trying to object.

"Eloquent as always, Black," Snape didn't even let him finish.

"You know each other," Misha wasn't really asking, he was stating a fact.

"Unfortunately," Snape was seemingly using every opportunity to express his discontent.

"I see," Misha's tone of voice was suddenly very hard. "Is it going to be a problem? We can always find someone else." Harry often found himself wondering how one person could be so kind and easy-going one moment and then turned into someone… well, someone you didn't want to mess with, someone who commanded respect and demanded obedience.

Snape didn't seem fazed though. Or was hiding it very well: "And you would be?"

"Mihail Berezinski, a close friend," Misha offered.

"I see," Snape repeated Misha's words as if declaring that everything about the Russian man was crystal-clear to him. "Mister Berezinski," scowled Snape. "No. It's not going to be a problem. No matter how much I detest Black, you are here, because I owe Albus. And you will have hard time finding someone who is not only capable, but can be trusted as well."

"Why would I ever trust **you**, Snape?" Sirius exclaimed.

"There is nothing I can say to convince you, Black. And it's not that I am going to waste my time convincing you of my trustworthiness. But let's say that your enemy is my enemy and we don't have to be friends to fight him. This is not a game and while I wish you have never been born, I am not going to let my personal feelings get in the way. Much. That I can promise."

Misha was still scrutinizing the acrid man through narrowed eyes and was being ignored by the lawyer.

Snape just turned to another target: "And can I assume that the one who is hiding behind your backs is the Potter offspring?"

Well, Harry didn't think he was hiding… but, obviously it was pointless. Maybe the man didn't remember him at all? Couldn't Harry be that lucky just for once?

"Erm… hello, Mr. Snape," the boy greeted.

"Oh, so it speaks," Snape raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Potter senior would be so very proud." He kept shuffling through documents not even looking at the young man.

Harry was taken aback. The man was not just rude. He was incredibly rude! Alright, he had some kind of bone to pick with Sirius, but he didn't really know Harry!

"You might want to sit down," Snape waved into direction of table with several chairs that had been obviously set up for the meeting. Sirius was still glaring draggers at the dark-hired man, but they did sit down.

Snape's attitude didn't improve much, but he refrained from direct insults and was all business. Harry was wondering where the man had found so many documents; it seemed that he knew a lot more about the state of his affairs, than Harry himself. The boy was not going to ask though. He could imagine what Snape would say. They discussed Sirius' and Harry's cases. Harry couldn't believe that he was going to have so much money. Well, he didn't exactly comprehend, how much it was, because the boy never had possessed much of it. Dursleys hadn't given him any money, ever. So he hadn't properly learned how manage it. As far as Harry was concerned five pounds was pretty much.

Snape announced that there would be no problems with taking over Potter's accounts and estates. They had been administered by trustees from GobLink bank who had done their best and there was no reason to complain about anything.

"What we don't know," Snape drawled. "Is if Potter has left anything we could use against Tom Riddle. And if there is anything, then question is where. Albus believes that… but Albus is an optimist."

Sirius' case was definitely more complicated, since he had to prove his identity to reclaim his possessions. "I don't see how someone could mistake you for anyone else, though," Snape noted. It was obviously not a compliment, judging by the vicious sneer that accompanied the words.

Misha looked less and less happy with the man who obviously held an enormous grudge against his lover.

"And you _Potter_," Harry's surname sounded like a swear word when Snape was using it. "You will have to sign those documents, so we can start the process. I will let you know when they will be ready; it would be relief if I could send you documentation by a courier. I don't particularly wish to see your face more often than necessary, but you will probably have to come here to sign or even go to see the Goblins, I mean, representatives from GobLink."

Harry nodded wondering what had he ever done to the man.

And then came what he had been dreading.

"Have we met before, Potter?" Snape narrowed his eyes scrutinising the boy.

Harry blushed and paled at the same time. Misha, who was carefully watching, raised an eyebrow.

"I… Ah… I don't think so… Sir," the boy stuttered.

"Hm," Snape's eyes bore into Harry's. The unique green could be easily seen, since the boy had stopped wearing glasses. "Not so many people have green eyes like yours, Potter, don't you agree? Until now, I knew only one other person who had that kind of green eyes, your mother… but wait a minute… yes, I think I remember now… Are you sure that you are the only child Potter? That would make things complicated…"

"Of course he is the only child!" Sirius exclaimed.

"How can you be so sure? Who knows what Potter was up to… but that wouldn't make much sense…"

"You are not making any sense!" Exclaimed Sirius. "Don't you dare to imply that…"

"I am not implying anything!" Snape barked. "Do you happen to have a cousin? A female cousin?"

Harry shook his head, not daring to say anything.

"Harriet…" Snape breathed out, recalling something.

Mortification on Harry's face probably confirmed all the suspicions the man had. Snape looked genuinely surprised for a moment.

"I see… You have interesting hobbies, Mr. Potter," the man couldn't quite hide his own surprise.

This would have been a good opportunity to humiliate Potter's son, but Snape really couldn't get completely vicious when it had been his godson who had been with the boy. Which was astonishing, really. What had Draco been doing… no, Severus didn't want to know.

"Ok, Snape," Sirius was loosing patience. "You are really making no sense now. What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing, really, just that Potter junior here looks very good in drag…" the barrister drawled.

There was a long pause, everyone looking at Snape, except Harry, who was trying to become invisible.

"Harry?" Sirius looked at the boy questioningly. "What is he talking about?"

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about, Black, really," Snape was really enjoying it. "Just that Potter and I, we have met before. That night he was wearing a pink dress and hanging off another man's arm." Snape conveniently didn't mention who had been the man.

"Could we talk about it at home?" Harry almost pleaded.

Snape had opened a can of worms. Harry really started to hate the dour man who didn't know when to keep his mouth shut and still looked like he wanted to say something more, probably was thinking of something to say to humiliate him even more.

Misha noticed it straight away and decided to put end to it: "Is there anything else you wanted, Mr. Snape or are we free to leave?"

"We are done for today, so, yes, you could be so kind and remove yourselves from my office."

Sirius obviously felt like he had something to say, but Harry didn't let him and almost forcefully dragged his godfather out of the office with Remus' support, who knew both men very well. Misha followed after giving Snape one warning look though. He still wasn't sure if they should put up with the barrister.

Harry was in such a hurry to get out of Snape's office that he didn't really look where he was going, before he had to stop as he ran into an obstacle that shouldn't be in the middle of the hall.

"Oh, excuse me…" Harry started to apologize and then looked up to see the person whose chest he had run into. And froze completely. Harry could have sworn that his heart stopped beating for a moment, his breath caught and the blood ran cold in his veins. There, standing in front of him, was Draco Malfoy. And he was not just standing; he was holding Harry by his upper arms as if trying to keep him from toppling over, cold, silver grey eyes piercing the dark-hired boy's very soul.

Since meeting Draco, Harry had become quite familiar with moments that could seemingly last eternity. The emotions that tore through him could have certainly filled an eternity. Pain, longing, anger, fear…

And Draco just stood there, like a marble statue without any expression distorting his perfect features. For a moment there Harry wondered if Draco Malfoy was human like everyone else, if he was capable of feeling anything at all.

And Draco was not letting him go.

'_Stop touching me. Let me go, Let me go, Draco, let me walk away,' _Harry silently begged. He had no idea how long they were standing like that.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Misha broke the 'spell' that had been put over the boy and he was able to shrug of Draco's hands that were surprisingly reluctant to let go. Not that the blonde was trying to hold on Harry or anything, but those long, elegant fingers had definetely tightened around the boy's biceps before letting go.

Harry was going to pretend that he hadn't felt that.

"Yes, everything is fine, Misha," Harry said flatly and decisively strolled down the hall, not looking back.

It took all his willpower, not to look back.

***

"Who were they?" Draco demanded as soon as he had closed the door of his godfather's office behind him.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the young man.

"Severus, who were they? Those men," the blonde demanded with the impudence of a young aristocrat, which he was, by the way.

Snape had an urge to roll his eyes: "But Draco, I thought that you knew at least one of them, the boy. Harry Potter. I remember how you introduced him to me, under a different name of course… Or have you forgotten already?"

"No. I haven't," Draco's voice was hard as steel and for the moment Snape was forced to remember whose son the young man was. There was the infamous Malfoy callousness, arrogance, hardness. But the cause of those traits in both men was different. The cause of Lucius' coldness was his total lack of morals, hunger for power and the fact that he enjoyed to play people. The source of Draco's coldness and cruelness was his anger. While outwards the son and father had a lot in common, they were very different people inside.

Severus wished he could help his godson, but he didn't exactly know how to deal with his own emotions.

"Well, if you have to know, those men were Harry Potter, his godfather, said godfather's best friend Lupin and some foreigner, I think his name was Michael or something like that. I am not sure which one of them he is fucking, but I would bet that it's not Lupin," Severus narrowed his eyes when he noticed that Draco's hands tightened in fists until his knuckles turned white.

Well, yes, he had deliberately insinuated some things, but the man hadn't expected such reaction from his godson. Really, because of… it was painfully obvious that Draco and the Potter brat had been engaged in something Snape didn't want to contemplate, but Draco was not the jealous type. Until now Snape hadn't even known that the young man had had a male lover.

It had always been something he had liked to taunt Black with. His homosexuality. Now his hateful words were returning to bite him. His own godson was obviously bisexual. But it didn't really matter if he thought about it. Black was Black. Everything he did was wrong. Snape wasn't above having double standards.

But what did the foolish boy see in Potter's progeny? Well, yes, Harry Potter was a little, pretty thing, he had to admit reluctantly. And that was it. Pretty. Not handsome. Not good looking in a manly way. Short, scrawny. Big, green eyes, too sensual mouth. The boy was feminine. Judging by the looks he should have been fourteen or female.

Draco however could still see Harry standing in front of him. he could still hear boy's heartbeat.

Short hair suited Harry. Draco could imagine how it would feel to rake his fingers through all of the thick, dark, incredibly soft strands. And the boy had gotten rid of his ugly DHS glasses. Without them the unique, verdant eyes looked just unbelievably large, their uniqueness was there for everyone to see. So painfully beautiful.

Once that beauty had belonged to Draco. He had been the one who had had the privilege to take off all the rags, to uncover Harry's beauty and enjoy it. Now the boy was not hiding anymore. he was there on display, for everyone. It made Draco so ridiculously jealous that he could hardly breathe.

Snape was watching his godson with worry. It was obvious that Potter's presence was affecting the blonde. Severus didn't like it.

"Why were they here?" Draco finally asked what was really important. "What does Harry Potter have to do with you?"

Snape sighed and sat down at his table and motioned for Draco to take the chair opposing it.

"I suppose it's time we discussed some things," Snape was reluctant for a reason. His godson has lived with him and worked in his law firm since he had left home. And he had been welcome. Severus loved the boy like his own and was not surprised and almost glad that Draco had finally had enough of his father and his manipulations. But…

"I am sorry to tell you this, Draco, but I am going to go against your father," he announced. Snape didn't believe in pretty words when things were about to turn ugly.

The blonde was giving his godfather a blank look: "What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said, Draco. I am forced to turn against Lucius. It's going to get ugly. Really ugly. As much as I don't want you to suffer from all of this, I am afraid that there is nothing much I can do about it. And as much as I love you… Lucius is still your father and I can't expect you to choose me over him," Snape said gravely.

"Wait a minute, you are saying that you are forced. Who is forcing you? If someone s trying to make you to do something you don't want to..."

"No, Draco," Severus lifted his hand to stop his godson from saying anything else. "I am afraid that my wording was not right. With 'forced' I didn't mean that there was some outside force influencing me. I meant that that is something I have to do. That is not to be discussed. I have made my decision. It was made long time ago, in fact. The question is what to do with you. I don't want to see you hurt."

"I can take care of myself," the younger man stated stubbornly. "But I have to understand."

"I shouldn't be telling you this Draco. I shouldn't be warning you… but," he cared too much. Severus really hoped that Draco knew that. "Long time ago, when I was very young I became friends with your father. He was older, not much, but when you are sixteen, three years are a lot. I was taken with Lucius, the damned sociopath. I was naïve and stupid. I did some things for him without knowing what I was doing and what the consequences would be. The consequences were not pleasant. It almost put me in the jail, Draco. Someone helped me. And opened my eyes to who your father really was. I won't sugar-coat it to you Draco. He has done some very bad things. People have suffered. He has to answer for his crimes."

Draco was struck. He knew his father was a right bastard, but crimes? He couldn't quite believe that.

"I am sorry, Draco," Severus really was. "I am sorry that I have to tell you this. I know you are not stupid, Draco, I know you know that Lucius is no saint. But the sad truth is that he is worse than that. He had done some things that are not excusable and the time has come to stop him. I know you are angry with him at the moment, but he is still your father and what I am going to do he will never forgive. I am going to betray him, Draco. This is not a game, Draco."

The younger man was speechless. He really didn't know what to say.

"Once again, Draco, I am sorry to put you into this situation. But you are not a child anymore; you should be able to decide for yourself. I would suggest you to stay out of what's going to happen when, excuse me for my French, shit hits the fan."

Then Draco remembered what had started this conversation: "And what does Harry Potter have to do with everything? With you? With my father?"

"Everything," Snape said grimly. "The Potters, his parents, where killed when the boy was no more than a year old, because James Potter stuck his nose into something that was not his business. Damn it, Draco, you couldn't choose worse person for your experimentation or whatever your fling with that boy was! Does Lucius know?"

"I assume he does," Draco ground out. He knew that it had been his father who had sent Harry those pictures. It didn't matter that he had no proof. No one else had the resources and a reason. That had been the last drop. Draco had moved out and went to live with his godfather. He was sick of his father trying control his life.

"Bloody marvellous," Snape swore. "It's not good. It means that if you will return to Lucius he will try to use you to get to the boy."

"What!" Draco exclaimed. It was ridiculous!

"Very soon that pretty boy of yours is going to become a major player in a very dangerous game and I have no doubt that your father will use any means to get to him. If he doesn't know exactly who the boy you dated was, he will use you against him…"

"No. I refuse to believe this, Sev," Draco shook his head. "Harry Potter, he is a poor orphan, he's no one…"

"Yes, he is an orphan whose parents had been killed. Murdered. He is not poor though, since he is about to inherit millions very soon now. Nothing like the Malfoy millions, but enough. And no matter, how little I like the brat; he is definitely someone, someone who is probably the key to bringing the ones who are responsible for his parent's murders and other crimes to justice. Those are people who had stolen, tortured, murdered…."

"I need to think about it," Draco cut him off.

Severus sadly watched his godson leaving the office. He really didn't have much choice in this. Some things just had to be done.

***

Harry pressed his cheek against the cold car window, he was feeling a bit flushed, the teenager was angry with himself. He had simply frozen. Just stood there gaping like an idiot. Well, the boy had been surprised. He hadn't expected to run into Draco of all people! But Snape was Draco's godfather, wasn't he? Harry just hoped that next time he would be ready and wouldn't let Draco Malfoy to affect him so much.

"Now, tell me Harry, what was Snape on about?" Sirius was not exactly angry.

Harry let out a deep breath. He just hadn't wanted to discuss it, like many other things from his past, besides he was too shaken after seeing Draco again. Why, God, why those things always happened to him?

"He saw me dressed up as a girl," The boy admitted.

Remus' eyebrows arched: "Oh… well, I had no idea that you… I must admit, I find it a bit…" it was obvious that it was out of Remus Lupin's comfort zone.

"Hn, sure, I like men and some people think that's abnormal or whatever," Sirius grumbled. "Will take some used to, but if you want to wear a dress, you should have told me… I guess it's not the end of the world… you don't want to become a woman, do you?"

Harry burst out laughing: "God, Sirius! Of course I don't! I didn't even like dressing up as a woman! Really. I was quite uncomfortable. It wasn't like that."

"So why did you, Harry, if you didn't want to?"

"It was for fun. Someone asked me to,"

"The same someone who…"

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "I guess he wanted me to be a girl or something."

"Never try to have a relationship with a bisexual," Misha made a face. "They never know what they want and there is always a chance that one day they would decide that they want children and children are easier to have with women."

"Harry," Remus put a hand over boy's small one. "You would feel better if you talked about it." He, Sirius and Misha, they all were worried that they knew almost nothing of Harry's relationship with… well; they didn't even knew the guy's name. It obviously had quite hurt the young man and kept hurting him, but Harry stubbornly refused to open up to them.

And once again the boy just shook his head. Remus sighed, but didn't pry. There was no point.

"And now tell me about our lawyer," Misha masterfully changed the topic. "The one with big nose and even bigger attitude problem."

Sirius snickered.

"We know him from school," Remus' lips quirked a bit too. "We didn't really get along."

"Didn't get along!" Sirius exclaimed. "That's the understatement of the century! We hated Snape, because he was such a cunt."

"Sirius!" Remus didn't appreciate his friend's crude language. "How old are you, honestly? I don't think Snape was nor is a bad person. Not easy to get along maybe, a bit antisocial. I think Sirius, James and Severus just started off on the wrong foot. Then it escalated."

Sirius grumbled something about feet, but no one was paying him any attention, since in some matters Remus was really more reliable.

"The worst was when James started liking Lily. She and Severus were very good friends, but she wouldn't even look at James twice then. They were awfully immature. James was very jealous."

"Are you telling me that Snape liked my mom?" That was somehow a disturbing possibility.

"I think he did," Remus nodded. "But they had a fall out. I am not really sure of the reasons."

"Don't be surprised, who could stand that slimy git for long," Sirius put in.

"Are you sure you are not just jealous, _dorogoi_," Misha smirked. "You know what they say about men with big noses."

"Misha!" Sirius spluttered. "I didn't want to think about that, I really didn't… yuck!"

"Me neither," Harry grimaced.

"But the question is if we can trust him," the Russian man got serious once again.

"I don't know," Remus answered. "I think he might have gotten involved because of Lily. But we don't really know, do we? Albus Dumbledore trusts him though and I think I trust Albus Dumbledore."

"Yes, he is very…" Misha didn't finish, but Remus obviously knew what he meant and nodded in agreement.

TBC

A/N: Ha! I am not stuck anymore. Which means that the story will continue. I don't promise to update often, but I will update. This is the only story I haven't finished, so I guess it means I am quite a nice author.

Thank you for reviews, I am glad you like the story. You did inspire me. I can't promise to always answer you, because I am busy and lazy, but they do help.

LillyJames4ever: I promise Draco and Harry will e meeting in the next chapter and in the one after that as well.

Harry Draco Malfoy: What Draco really deserves is good spanking, not Harry. But you can be happy that people sometimes don't get what they deserve.

Yaoiandcoffeeaddict: Cheers!

StarWest45: Thanks. I think you should be happy because Harry is back. I never intended to keep him away for too long.

Maryna: About the food – where I come it's not that different from Russian, so I kind of know pretty well what they eat. I am not even sure if some of the stuff is really theirs.

GaiazHeart: You really like Harry getting dirty? Oh my… ;)

RRW: Well, I don't think he will become very slutty, just a bit braver, temperamental and less prudish.

Imperfection Is A Bliss: Well, people get over relationships in many different ways.

tilly-tally-tease: I am glad you like the story. I learned Russian at a very young age, so mostly from TV, it was easy and not really learning (like having lessons), but came natural to me. I would say that the language is hard enough if you aren't exposed to it every day, many people have problems with pronunciation. Russian is definitely more different from English than Spanish or German, for example. It is a kind of language you need talent for, because many of my friends who have lived in the same conditions as I, struggle with it – they kind of understand, but can't pronounce the words. I don't dare to say that it would be easy to learn.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title**: Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humour :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story (loosely based on). Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: It's not too bad

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Fandom does not belong to me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing, not betaedited.

* * *

**Chapter ****Thirteen**

"Ron!" Harry all but threw himself at his best friend, almost deliriously happy to finally see him again.

Harry had wanted to go to the Burrow and see the other boy and the Weasleys as soon as they had arrived, but Misha had been categorically against it. The Russian had insisted that first they had to make sure that someone wasn't watching the house and perhaps it would be better not to go to the Burrow at all, just to be safe, but better bring Ron to them. After all Misha's London house was something akin to a fortress with high walls around the property and CCTV cameras pointed at every entrance. Not to mention that the house officially belonged to some cousin of Misha's whose name no one would recognise.

Harry was getting annoyed with Misha's security obsession; in most cases the man was very amiable and accommodating, but refused to compromise on that one issue. Surely, it was not that serious, right? But he had learnt that it was pointless to argue with his godfather's boyfriend about some things.

Maybe Misha had a point. If something ever happened to the Weasleys Harry would never forgive himself.

"Hey, Harry," Ron chuckled hugging the smaller boy back with the same amount of enthusiasm and then lifting him a couple of inches off the ground.

Harry buried his nose in the crook of his neck. His sweater smelt so nice, like Ron and cookies and like Burrow. Home.

They just stayed like that for some time.

"Just don't tell my brothers that I went all sappy on you, mate," Ron mock-pleaded finally letting go. It seemed that he couldn't stop grinning. "But I really, really missed you. You were away for too long!"

"Well, then I will have to admit that I missed you too, was not going to, but I see I have no choice, wouldn't leave you to be sappy alone," Harry returned with a grin of his own and Ron gave him a playful shove.

"And about you brothers," Harry continued. "You don't tell them about me and I won't tell about you."

"Deal," the red-head agreed.

"Come, Ron, let's go upstairs to my room, so we can talk undisturbed," Harry beckoned.

"Sure, mate. Nice house, by the way," he commented.

"Um, thanks, I guess," Harry was feeling a bit embarrassed about showing Ron his room, which was about trice the size of the one they had both shared at the Burrow, not to mention much better furnished. Harry was still getting used to being well-off and was not comfortable with having whatever he could wish for.

To Harry's relief Ron didn't look envious or upset or something, he appeared to be impressed though.

"So how have you been? I got the e-mails, of course, but, well, you know that it's not the same… By the way you look good. Damn, good!"

Harry's cheeks reddened a bit, but his smile wavered: "Err… listen Ron…" this was as good time to have the conversation as any since he didn't know what to say anyway. Harry didn't want to hurt his best friend's feelings, but he couldn't let Ron think that… God, but this was awkward.

"Shit, Harry," Ron hurried to interrupt the uncomfortable moment. "I didn't mean it like that! I mean, yeah, you **do** look damn good and everything, not that I know anything about those things, but…" Ron looked down blushing. "Yeah, you are pret… err… handsome I mean. And I know we… Jeez, Harry, I don't think… I would like us to stay friends. Just friends, if you are alright with that?"

"Oh," was all the dark-hired boy could say. But he was feeling very relieved. Ron on the other hand looked worried and Harry hurried to reassure him. "I want to be your friend too. Nothing has changed since that one time."

Ron let out a deep breath and met Harry's eyes again: "Great! That's just great, mate! Because you know…"

Harry simply nodded smiling; he did not want to make his best friend uncomfortable by insisting that he talk about their feelings, however it seemed that they understood each other perfectly without having to talk about anything.

Then Ron tensed up again: "Err, Harry… Don't get me wrong, mate, but…" Ron was looking uneasy, playing with hems of his sweater and looking down at his feet. "I have to tell you something."

Now Harry was getting worried: "Ok?"

"I guess there is no way around it… well, Hermione and I… we are kind of an item now, I mean, we are dating," he finished and warily glanced at the other teen, looking for signs of disapproval. But found none.

Harry looked a bit surprised though, but then his face broke into a devilish smile: "Ron, you sneaky bastard! I am happy for you! Why would you think I would mind?"

It was Ron's turn to flush now: "Well, yeah, I guess… I really like her, you know? She's smart, pretty and… God, mate, Hermione's just fucking amazing!"

"Yes, I couldn't wish for a better girlfriend for my best friend," even with a silly smile on his face Harry was very sincere and serious about what he had said. And then the boy suddenly thought about something.

"Err, Ron," he didn't really want to make the red-head uneasy (God, but that was becoming the theme of the afternoon – avoiding awkwardness), but it was important to know to avoid bad situations. "Does she know that we…?"

There was no need to finish; Ron knew very well, what Harry was asking about.

He took a deep breath: "Well, she knows that I had some kind of crush on you for a while. Apparently I was that obvious." He laughed, but it seemed somewhat forced.

"But I didn't tell her that we, um, slept together," Ron admitted. "I couldn't. I don't think that it's something one can tell his girlfriend. She's pretty open-minded about those things, at least I think that she is, but still… you know, that I slept with another guy who I am still friends with… seems a bit much to accept…"

"I understand," Harry said and forced a token smile. But it stung a bit. To be someone's little, dirty secret. It reminded him of Draco who had wanted to dress him up as a girl to introduce to his parents… but it was better not to think about the bastard at all.

But Ron was probably right and didn't mean it like that anyway. It was not his fault that Harry had issues and it was Harry's fault that they had had sex.

"But if I think about that," Ron interrupted Harry's musings. "She might not be that upset about the fact that I slept with a guy, but that it was you, could be a major problem. I might be the one who would go to the doghouse for taking advantage of you--"

"Ron, you didn't take---" Harry protested.

"I know, I know! We talked about that already. I know. We keep talking about it as if we were trying to convince each other about it," he sighed. "You know, maybe we should admit that we might have taken advantage of each other a bit. Maybe that way it would be…" he didn't finish having problem with finding the right words. "But Hermione wouldn't see it like that, she will blame me! You can bet on that."

Harry frowned thoughtfully and then he had to admit that probably it was true. Hermione could be somewhat self-righteous at times.

Well, not that long ago Harry too had had many principles. He hadn't believed in casual sex. Oh, God, he would be rolling with laughter if it wasn't still hurting so much. He had actually thought that he and Draco… that they would be together forever or something like that. True love, hearts and roses.

How unbelievably naïve he had been! He had wanted Draco to be his first and only one.

But that little, weak idiot was gone. If Harry wanted sex, no one could forbid him to sleep with whomever he liked. Draco was probably bedding a new girl every week. Why wouldn't he do the same? After the first time, with Ron, the second had been a lot easier. And the third hadn't bothered him at all.

Well… there was one issue – he had never gone as far with any of his one night stands as with Draco and Ron that one time. He just couldn't give himself up so completely. Maybe with time… but he just couldn't trust people so easily anymore…

"Nice room," Ron interrupted Harry's musings. "Tons of space," the red-head was casting around an appreciative look.

"Thanks, it means you could stay over whenever you like," Harry suggested. Then the he laughed out seeing Ron's eyes widen. "In a sleeping bag, you idiot!"

Ron snickered too.

"So," Harry decided to change the topic. "Are you guys still coming with me tonight?"

"Oh, sure mate! Of course! You didn't think that I would let you party alone? No way, Harry!"

"All of you?"

"Sorry, but Neville is somewhere visiting relatives, Luna is busy with… I don't know what, some kind of project. Ginny is obviously too young. I didn't really call Lav and the twins, it's not like I don't like them, but you have just returned, so I thought it would not do to set them on you. Dean and Seamus have gone to France to see our team playing… ah, but you don't care for football much…"

Harry shook his head and snickered. He really didn't and it was nice that Ron had remembered, before starting a long (very long) tale about who was playing who, why and so on. The red head was unstoppable if he started on the topic of THE GAME.

Ron rolled his eyes: "Alright, forget it, but yeah, they can't make it. BUT…" he paused and made a face. "Unfortunately, the twins could make it."

Harry laughed out: "Ron! They are your brothers!"

"They are menaces!" He smiled sheepishly. "I love them of course, but after all the pranks they had pulled on me during last eighteen years, I don't exactly feel relaxed around them."

Harry sniggered again and Ron playfully pushed him: "Prat."

"Well," then Harry got serious. "At least I am sure that they will not mind my… err, lifestyle?" He was not sure how to put it. "Dean, Neville, Seamus and Luna, they don't know yet, right? I mean we are not the closest of friends or anything…"

"Harry they like you," Ron assured. "They think of you as one of us, their friend. And of course they will not mind, don't worry, we tell them as soon as they are back in London," the red-head didn't say that aloud, but he decided that Seamus and Dean were going to be very accepting of Harry's sexuality, if they knew what was good for them. He wasn't worried about Neville and Luna.

Harry let out a breath.

"Alright, then I will sent taxi to pick u and Hermione up. And another for Fred and Gorge…"

"No, no, mate! It's alright, no need to…"

"Of course there is a need, I want you to be comfortable, it's no trouble," Harry waved him off.

"Jeez, mate, you've turned into such a rich boy," Ron drawled.

That startled Harry: "You think?"

Ron shrugged: "I am not saying that it's a bad thing, but you have changed a lot. New looks and attitude… it will take time to get used to. But I am glad to see that you are happier."

Harry smiled, hoping that Ron didn't notice that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. His happiness was a complicated concept. He was happier in some ways, but then again, not exactly… but nothing could be done about it at the moment.

"See you later tonight, Ron,"

***

Draco really had a lot to think about. It was all just too… Yes, he had known that Lucius was not exactly the nicest of men (to put it lightly) and that he liked to play dirty. But a criminal? That was what Severus had meant, wasn't it?

It was hard to believe, really, that his father was even worse than just a selfish and arrogant bastard who cared only about himself.

Still, there was one thing Draco was sure of. Not a thing, a person and that person was his godfather, Severus Snape. Severus loved him and not in words only, like Lucius, the man had never deliberately lied to Draco, he had never broken a promise, never tried to use or manipulate him.

He just couldn't believe that Severus would do anything without a really good reason or over some minor infraction. It had to be something really bad, something that was worse than blackmail or tax evasion. Snape was not like that. The man was no saint himself and proud of it and didn't judge anyone for minor sins. Draco was afraid to think of what his father had done, because it had to be something big.

Draco was afraid that he didn't really want to know what his father has done, but he couldn't just forget about it, right? He had been living with Snape since he had left the Manor. He had been accepted and no questions had been asked. Draco's relationship with his godfather had always been different from the one he had with Lucius.

Severus never asked anything in return for what he was giving, not even in the roundabout 'I have done so much for you and you can't do this one little thing for me' way, which was Lucius' favourite. There were no conditions, except that Draco had to clean his room and do his own laundry and wash dishes after himself when he stayed with Severus, since the man stubbornly refused to hire help. But that hadn't bothered Draco since his teens… Severus' love for him was unconditional and Draco could trust the man. There was no questioning that.

But could he really go against Lucius? The man was his father after all. Leaving the home was one thing. No one was really taking it seriously. Lucius hadn't disowned him or anything, he even had left Draco access to all of the accounts he had been using and hadn't tried anything to get Draco return. The older Malfoy was convinced that his son was having a tantrum.

Actually Blaise had been the only one who had tried to talk his best friend into returning to the Manor. It was unclear to Draco, why it even mattered to Zabini, but lately Draco didn't understand what was happening with him at all, so he had decided to let it rest.

And now this. If Severus was going to work against Lucius, then Draco would be expected to return home immediately, to turn back to his godfather who didn't deserve it… Severus would understand if he tried to remain neutral, but his father… Draco seriously doubted that Lucius would understand. He knew his father well enough to know that if you were not with him then you were against him.

So, the question was, if Draco was really just throwing a tantrum. That was the question he would be forced to answer to himself very soon.

And Harry… Harry Potter was somehow involved in everything. It was just wrong. Harry wasn't supposed to be involved in anything at all. Sweet, innocent Harry Potter whom Draco had tried to keep away from his world even if it meant keeping Harry away from himself. Draco doubted that the boy had appreciated what he had done, but it had been for the best. They came from two different worlds and Harry was better off not knowing his world and his father. And would have been better off if he had never gotten to know Draco. But fate apparently had a really bad sense of humour.

He hadn't expected to see Harry again, but there he was in his godfather's office, looking more beautiful than ever. That had hurt. And Snape's insinuation that there was something going on between Harry and one of the men who were with him had just made him furious like never before. And jealous. Draco couldn't lie to himself about one thing – he still wanted Harry as much as the first time they had met and Draco had thought that Harry was a beautiful girl.

Harry was just so… alluring. It was as if he had been made to make Draco loose his mind – those eyes, those plump lips, that skin, his smell… the longing that pierced Draco's heart every time when he woke up in the morning after having dreamed of Harry laying by his side… it was unbearable.

He needed a drink. Or better few. Oblivion would be very welcome even if only for a night.

Draco's phone started ringing and vibrating against his thigh. The damned thing was annoying, especially when the blonde didn't want to talk to anyone which had become 'usually' lately.

He looked at the display, made a sour face, but in the end hit the green button: "What do you want, Blaise,"

"No, Blaise, leave me alone…"

"I told you, NO!"

God, but Blaise could be as persistent as annoying…

"Alright! Alright… I'm coming. You can shut up already."

***

The young people were standing on the pavement, absentmindedly looking at the other late teens and people in their twenties who were passing them by, the girls talking loudly and laughing even louder, guys shaking each other's hands and trying to look cool.

This was a bit different from what Harry was used to, which was kind of funny, because he was British, however, the boy had never really gone out in London. But there were some similarities – didn't matter London or Moscow, less was more when you went clubbing.

"I am still not sure about this, Harry," Hermione's voice pulled the boy out of his musings. "You are not eighteen for another week. Your godfather shouldn't be letting you to go out like this, besides you told yourself that you were not safe…"

"Wish I had such a cool bloke for a godfather…" Ron interrupted her wistfully.

Hermione glared at her boyfriend, who had a decency to look apologetic.

"I **am** almost eighteen, Hermione," Harry shot back flippantly. "No big deal, really. Misha told me that I will most likely be too busy with other things to celebrate after I will be eighteen. And it's not that I am in any kind of danger with Ivan and Kostia trailing me everywhere," Harry turned a bit and winked at his two bodyguards, and then snickered when one of them gave him a finger. They didn't like escorting Harry to the places with too many gay men, as bodyguards both were incredibly fit and got a lot of attention, which was not the kind of attention two straight guys enjoyed.

Hermione wanted to say something else, but Ron pulled her closer to his side: "Relax, Hermione, we are already here. You did your best to make us see reason, but some people are just… awfully unreasonable? Anyway… let's have some fun." And he dragged the girl towards the club, after Harry and the twins who were already ahead of everyone.

One of the bodyguards went to the bouncer and said something to the guy and Harry's party was allowed to enter immediately, without even having to stand in the queue. Hermione's scowl only deepened. She had very low tolerance for unfairness even if she was the one benefiting from it.

The club was nice, even Harry had to admit it and he had seen a lot of clubs. The other teens however were in awe.

"Come along guys, let's find our table, Ron, let's go, you'll be able to stare at the interior all night long,"

"Aren't you gay by the chance Harry?" The red-head reached out and mussed his best friend's hair. "I was not staring at the interior, I was staring at the gir—Ouch! 'Mione! I was-- nothing, I was staring at nothing! Ouch!"

Harry snickered smoothing his hair. Hermione could pinch.

"Little brother," Fred begun.

"Has found himself a feisty one," George finished.

They were led to a booth by a waiter who took away the 'reserved' sign and offered to bring them drinks.

"Ok, guys," Harry spoke to his friends. "Whatever you do, just don't ask Ivan and Kostia to get you drinks, alright? They are bodyguards, not servants," he made a gesture towards the men, who, as usually, were keeping the distance and blending in, while still keeping an eye on their charge and at the same time trying not to watch him too closely and not to become annoyingly intrusive.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "Oh, of course not! We wouldn't."

"I know, but I had to make sure," Harry knew he could trust Hermione to be tactful, but there were the twins…

"No worries Harry," George winked at the boy.

"Won't want to give all the pretty lasses the wrong message,"

"Blokes buying us drinks,"

"That's a big no-no,"

"No offence mate."

Harry rolled his eyes. He had chosen a club with mixed public, but started to regretting it already, thinking about the possible trouble the twins might get it.

"Just try not to offend anyone, Ok, guys?"

The waiter returned to take their order and Harry decided that obviously they were in the VIP zone, since the clubbers usually didn't get waited on. He chose juice for Hermione's peace of mind and settled into a comfortable conversation for a while. Fred and George were the first to hit the dance floor though.

"Hey, mind to let us in on the joke?" Ron suddenly inquired when he noticed Harry smiling over Hermione's shoulder.

"No joke," the dark-hired boy replied. "I am just flirting, I think that guy over there wouldn't mind to dance with me. If he smiles back… oh, he does, well, then, bi for now, guys; you're on your own. And you have to dance with Hermione, Ron!"

And with that Harry slid out of the booth and confidently strolled towards a tall, blonde stranger.

Hermione's eyes widened: "Alright. But who is that and what has he done with our Harry?"

"It appears, our Harry has grown up," Ron made a face looking after his best friend. He was not jealous. Not in THAT way, but then he was a bit jealous. Ridiculous, really, since he had no reason to be possessive over Harry, but sometimes people had irrational feeling, didn't they?

Ron was sure that he would get over it. But there would be nothing wrong with volunteering to sort out the first bloke who wronged his best friend.

***

"Oh, have another drink or something Nott, but wipe that expression off your face. We don't need another Malfoy here tonight," Daphne Greengrass reprimanded Theodore who was obviously unhappy.

"Why did we come here? There are too many queers all over this place," Nott grumbled.

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"We came here, because this is one of the poshest places around at the moment," Daphne's tone was a bit exasperated.

"Besides you have no idea what you are scorning Teddy," Blaise smirked and winked at his friend.

"Oh, and you certainly do, Zabini," Nott returned the smirk and glanced at Draco who was completely ignoring his friends in favour of the drink he was nursing in his hand. "Try not to flaunt it, alright?"

Someone snickered and Pansy gave Blaise a dark look. She was convinced that Draco was hers.

Blaise on the other hand was really cross with Daphne for inviting the bitch with them, he had his own opinion about to whom Draco belonged. Or will belong one day, hopefully that day would come soon. Draco could be so annoyingly complicated…

"You know, Blaise is right," Adrian Pucey joined. "You are so old-fashioned. I personally stick to ladies myself, thank you very much, but if you think about it, a mouth is a mouth, right? And I have heard that queers are better at it than some birds."

"I sooner let a bloke to suck me off, as long as he knows, what he is about, than a bird that doesn't," Zacharias Smith drawled in his slightly nasal voice. "And a guy certainly would never forget to mind his teeth. Besides they are all so eager, that they will blow you and then thank you for letting them after."

"Will you bet on it?" Nott challenged.

"Sure," Smith shrugged.

"So, how about I walk up to one of those poofs and ask him to blow me and if he agrees the drinks for the rest of night are on me; if he doesn't, on you. Deal?"

"One of three has to agree," Blaise suggested. "To be fair. Assuming that not everyone is that desperate to go with the first bloke who offers."

"I guess that's fair," Nott agreed.

"And you must ask nicely, you can't sabotage," Pucey warned.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Nott waved him off.

Draco rolled his eyes. How old were they? They had been making those stupid little bets since the primary school. Wasn't it time to think of something else to entertain their bored, rich asses with?

"I bet if Draco proposed someone, we would have a winner right away," Smith leered.

"Fuck off," the blonde grumbled and took another sip from his glass.

"Draco is not a pervert, like you," Pansy chirped and snuggled closer to the blonde making him wince. Too much perfume. Why had he allowed Blaise to talk him into going out? It was not like Severus' liquor cabinet was lacking. On the other hand, the man thought that Draco was drinking too much these days, but he hadn't done anything to prevent it so far.

"Hey! See that one," Nott exclaimed, full of enthusiasm, gesturing towards the dancers. "Pretty for a boy, isn't he? Nice lips, if you know what I mean." He wriggled eyebrows in a suggesting manner. "I think I want that one."

"Hm, yes, he's cute, for a boy that is," Pucey agreed. "What are you waiting for then? Go."

Nott grinned confidently, got to his feet and sauntered right into the throng of dancers.

"Not a chance," Smith smirked. "The pretty ones are never easy."

"Well. At least that will teach Nott a lesson" Blaise winked at him. He didn't care for Notts attitude. The arrogant prick deserved to be knocked down a peg.

Daphne frowned: "I am not sure about this. You know, how hw gets."

Blaise shrugged, he didn't really care, and turned around to watch the show. Oh, he knew whom Theodore had talked about right away. The boy was wearing white, snug trousers, which left little to imagination, meaning that his long legs and small, round butt were just begging to be ogled. The expanse of skin that was uncovered by the red tank-top was glistening with sweat; the boy's dark-hair looked mussed and windblown.

His short stature and litheness made him appear barely old enough to be there, which naturally was very appealing to the men, who were circling the dark-haired youth and the man he was dancing with. It was obvious that the boy's partner was not a boyfriend or someone he had already decided to take home for the night, so everyone who would want to come between them could have a chance and the hopefuls were circling the pretty thing like hungry wolfs. The dark-hired boy seemed totally oblivious though, which made him even more of a prize of course.

Nott was handsome enough, their clique didn't do ugly. Maybe except Pansy, but Blaise was biased there… still, Blaise doubted that Theo had a chance. He had a major attitude problem.

The blonde sipped his drink and watched Nott approach his target with amused smirk.

***

Harry was having pretty good time. He would never have imagined that dancing might be his thing, but it had turned out that he enjoyed it very much. At the moment though, he was desperate to ditch his present partner. There was nothing wrong with the guy, but that didn't mean that Harry wanted something more with him and the bloke's hands were getting grabby.

The boy was relieved when another man approached them, winked at Harry and smiled in his direction.

"Excuse me," Harry yelled into his dance partner's ear. "I promised my friend there a dance."

The guy looked disappointed, but there was nothing he could do but watch Harry take the other man's offered hand. He was good-looking, in that average, alright face, alright body, nice clothes, way. But Harry thought the guy was a bit plain, of course after Draco Malfoy everyone seemed plane... Didn't matter at the moment though. It was just a dance.

Harry was determined not to pick up anyone. He was there with the twins and Hermione and Ron after all.

"Hey," the guy leaned closer to Harry's ear. "Don't know about you, but I am a bit thirsty. Let's get something to drink."

Harry nodded. Perfect. Just what he had thought about and he let the bloke to put his arm on his shoulder and guide him off the dance floor. He didn't notice that they were being watched by several pairs of eyes. Both jealous and curious.

The guy led Harry to a sofa that was partially hidden from the dance floor by a huge square column that was seemingly supporting the high ceiling of the club. The boy sunk into it, fanning himself with his hands.

"I am so hot!" He exclaimed.

"Are you?" The man smirked sitting on the sofa next to Harry.

Harry realised what a ridiculous thing he had just said and wanted to say something, but then the man slid closer and was suddenly very close to him, too close even.

"Tell me, how hot you are," he breathed against Harry's neck. "Or even better. Show me."

"Err… listen…" the boy started putting his hands between them and pushing the brunette back.

"I think I know what you want," the man's hand was on Harry's thigh. "You want it bad, don't you? You are gagging for it, you--"

"No!" That was not funny anymore: "No. I… I have to go." The dark-hired boy tried to get up.

"Hey!" Theodore exclaimed grabbing Harry by the arm. "I know, you want my cock, you little whore! You are not going anywhere!"

"Are you crazy! Let me go!" Harry protested trying to get out of the vicelike grip. He had managed to stand, but as soon as the boy was on his feet, the larger man pressed him up against the column.

"Oh, I will let you go after you suck my cock,"

Harry was starting to feel panicky, shit, where were Kostia and Ivan, when they were needed! The guy was a head taller than Harry. What was wrong with the bastard? He had done nothing to… Harry squeezed his eyes shut trying to get himself together. He had to do something! But Harry had frozen all over and couldn't move. No. Plese. This was not happening…

Suddenly the man was not pressing against Harry anymore. When the boy opened his eyes, he saw the other bloke on the floor, pressing a hand against his face, covering what looked like a bleeding nose. Harry was barely holding himself up, his legs were shaking, leaning against the column and staring at Draco Malfoy who was looking ready to kill and was being held back by two other guys. Blaise… one of them was Blaise, Harry remembered him.

And Draco… what was Draco doing there?

"You dare to touch him again and you are dead Nott!" The blonde snarled and he looked like he meant it. Harry had never seen Draco so angry, it was as if the anger was coming off him in waves and he was ready to tear the bastard on the floor apart with his bare hands.

Harry felt a sudden urge to go to Draco, to put his arms around him, to wrap himself around the man, to calm and soothe him.

Harry's eyes widened. What was he thinking? He couldn't.

Then the boy noticed that suddenly there were a lot of people around him.

"Harry!" Hermione and Ron hurried to his side.

"Are you alright?" Hermione took one of his hands between her smaller, warm ones.

However, all that Ron could see was the snarling, blonde man.

"Malfoy," he ground out, squeezing palms into fists and making a step forward. That returned Harry to reality and he stepped into the redhead's way.

"Ron, don't! He didn't do anything to me. It was that guy on the floor. Draco… he helped me. Ron, please?"

The redhead's angry, blue eyes were fixed on Draco who on the other hand was looking only at Harry. Ron could see it: "It doesn't matter, the bastard deserves--"

"Garry, you, Ok?" It was Kostia. Finally. Harry wanted to groan.

"I'm fine Kostia, but…" there was so much tension, Harry was afraid that it or rather someone was about to blow up any minute

"Draco, calm down!" A female voice caught Harry's attention and he turned around and … his eyes met the most amazing silver ones, he had ever seen - Draco's. The hate he saw in them almost made him recoil and then it was gone from the quicksilver pools and was replaced with something… something Harry couldn't exactly define, but, Harry gasped, for a moment those eyes had reminded him of open wounds, before the usual cold indifference returned into them.

The moment was stretching out, it seemed no one knew what to do or say…

"Garry!" Someone exclaimed in accented English and it was not Kostia.

The boy spun around and… for a moment all he could see was a bunch of white roses and then he noticed the face and the man standing behind them. No, it couldn't be! And the timing couldn't have been worse.

But it was.

"Vi-k-tor?" Harry's voice shook.

"Garry! Happy birzday!"

The roses (at least two or three dozens of them) were thrust into Harry's hands and he was hugged against the taller man's broad chest.

"Um… Viktor? Where did you come from?"

"Ah, see, just arrived in London, called your godfazer, he told me where to find you. A great guy that Sirius!"

Viktor released Harry then, to the boys immerse relief. He was going to kill Sirius!

"Am I interrupting something?" The Romanian looked around. Adrian Pucey was helping Nott to get off the floor watched by Ivan. Daphne and Blaise were still holding on Draco, just in case, Draco was glaring draggers, only his target was Viktor now, Kostia, Hermione, Ron looked genuinely confused.

"N-no Viktor, you are not…" what was Harry supposed to say? Tell Viktor to get lost and come back sometime later. If honestly, that was exactly what he wanted to say, only Harry had never been good at refusing people.

"Gud! Miss you so much!"

Viktor smiled and hugged Harry again. Over his shoulder Harry saw Draco pull free from Blaise's grip and storm away and felt something painfully twist in his stomach. Blaise Gave Harry a hateful look and followed Draco.

_Sycophant__!_… Harry wanted to yell after him.

Viktor let Harry go, but not completely, his arm stayed around the boy's shoulder.

Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Erm, guys, this is Viktor Krum. I know him from Moscow," then he frowned. "What are you doing here, Viktor?" Harry prayed that the Romanian wasn't going to tell him that he had come for Harry. Please not that.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Ron exclaimed. "Viktor Krum? Are you THAT Viktor Krum?"

The Romanian man smiled: "A futball fan are you?"

"Sure, mate!"

"Yes, I am zat Viktor Krum," he turned towards Harry. "Garry, I am moving to London. I will play for Chelsea from now on."

"Oh," was all the boy could say. He was still worried about Draco who had not looked good… but Draco had Blaise trailing after him like a dog… not that Harry cared.

Ron on the other hand couldn't have been more glad to see Viktor, he was pumping the football-player's hand enthusiastically and questioning him about the team and the game and… well, Harry didn't understand half of it. He knew next to nothing about football.

Then something caught his attention.

"Hey, Viktor, are you Harry's boyfriend or something?" The redhead had a gall to sound hopeful.

"As long as Garry wil hav me,"

Harry was going to murder his best friend.

TBC

**A/N:** Thank you for reviews. I love them.

I hope at least some of you are not loosing interest, because I am really going to finish this one day, meaning that the next chapter is coming if not in a week, then in two certainly.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title**: Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humour :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story (loosely based on). Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: It's not too bad

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Fandom does not belong to me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing, not betaedited.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

Viktor and Ron were getting on like a house on fire. It looked like love from the first sight (at least on Ron's side), just not the romantic kind of love.

It was obvious that he didn't even want to get in the car and part from his idol. Fred and George almost dragged their brother into the taxi.

It left Harry with Hermione, whom he had offered to drive home, and Viktor. Ivan and Kostia didn't really count, meaning that they were not going to stop Viktor from discussing their relationship after Hermione got out of the car. Viktor would probably propose that they should talk and-- Harry really didn't want to 'talk'.

He had kind of dated Viktor for three weeks before returning to London. Kind of, because he didn't date anyone these days, he 'kind of' dated. Harry wouldn't have called the football player his boyfriend. Besides, at the time he hadn't been forced to define their relationship. Viktor had to stay in Russia to play football, Harry had to return home. It had been easy. No strings attached, no complications. By-by, send me an email once in a while.

Harry had always suspected that Viktor had not been happy with that, but not quite ready to give up his career for their relationship. And (what a great surprise), suddenly one of the best football clubs in Britain decided to buy him and now Viktor was here and, as far as Harry could tell, wanted to pick up where they had left off.

Shite.

Viktor was a great guy. Handsome, successful, kind, intelligent, he had great body – everything one could wish for in a boyfriend. Sirius adored him. Misha approved. Now Ron had joined 'We Love Viktor Krum' club, too.

Harry, himself, on the other hand, had no idea, what he was feeling for the man… but, no, it was not true, he knew exactly what he was, or rather b **was not /b **feeling. There was nothing wrong with Viktor, but it would have been easier if he had stayed in Russia or even returned to Romania. Then Harry wouldn't be forced to make a decision he was not ready to make, the one he had avoided the first time, the decision that might hurt Viktor or someone else, depending on what it would be.

Why did it made his stomach twist when Harry returned in his thoughts to the moment Draco had stormed out of the club after Viktor had given him the flowers. White roses. Somehow they didn't feel right at all…

The boy turned his head and looked at Viktor who smiled at him. It was one of those kind, reassuring and a tad hopeful smiles that made him feel guilty even if Harry hadn't done anything wrong.

No, there was no doubt, maybe Viktor was in London to play football, but he was there tonight for Harry.

***

Draco wanted to hit something or someone, it didn't matter at this point.

Harry.

No. No matter what, Draco didn't believe that he could ever raise his hand against Harry. There were many other ways of venting his anger Draco could think of, involving Harry Potter. And that was the problem. Draco had been forced to leave, before he killed someone or threw the boy over his shoulder and carried him out of the club, away from all those people who were ogling his… not his anything. But still, he hated everyone ogling his little ex-lover.

He had wanted to tear Nott's hands off for touching Harry. Draco had to get away from there before he did exactly that.

"Draco! Draco! Will you stop for a moment!"

Draco was in no mood for Zabini. He kept walking.

"Draco!" Blaise grabbed his friend's shoulder and spun him around forcefully.

"What has gotten into you?" He demanded catching Draco's eyes.

"Leave me alone Zabini," Draco snarled.

The other man's face twisted into a grimace that made the handsome face suddenly look almost frighteningly ugly: "I can't believe you, Draco! Are you still pining after that, that good for nothing nobody?"

The taller blond didn't answer, but the truth was written all over his face.

"Fuck you, Malfoy!" Blaise spat. "How can you… so you enjoyed seeing him tonight? Wriggling his ass all over the dance floor offering it to anyone willing like a cheap tart he is--"

"Shut--" Draco pushed Blaise away from him. "b**Shut the fuck up,/**b" he didn't yell, he was too angry to, but the low, threatening tone of his voice should have scared Blaise if he hadn't been too far gone to care.

"Oh, yes, Draco, he was practically wearing a sign: 'Here I am! Come and take me'! And you, you… What is so special about that whore? Why him? Why? Why him and not me Draco? He doesn't want you anymore, by the way! Didn't you notice?"

For a moment Draco wanted to punch the living lights out of Zabini, to wrap his hands around his pretty neck and squeeze until… but seeing him so livid, so miserable…

"Don't you dare to pity me Malfoy!" Blaise snarled. "It's you, whom I feel sorry for. You, you miserable sod!"

Draco raked fingers through his hair brushing it back and sighed tiredly: "Go home, Blaise."

With that he turned around and started walking away.

"You will regret this Draco Malfoy! I will make you regret this!"

Draco heard the other man shout after him, but he just kept waking. All he wanted was to go home. Or rather to Severus', which supposedly was his home for now.

***

Tom Marvolo Riddle lifted eyes from the stack of documents he had started signing and looked out of the window. London could be very dull some days. Not that he had ever been bothered by such trivialities as weather and scenery.

Then there was a knock on the door and one of his most trusted allies proudly strolled into the room. For a moment Tom admired the man's posture and looks. He could appreciate beauty. It was one of the indications of good breed. Survival of the strongest. Tom had always believed in that. The defective and the week were waste of space.

Lucius was everything a man should be – good-looking, ruthless, devious, efficient and ambitious. The man had inherited enough money to last him lifetime, but had not been idle. The same as Tom on that accord – he always wanted more. Without doubt he had earned his place as Tom's favourite. It was a pity that the man was only few years younger than Tom, he would be a worthy heir.

Of course there was that wonderful young man, Draco, more beautiful than his father, even. There were many things Tom would have wanted to do with the boy, especially after seeing him with that delightful, little thing in a drag, he hadn't suspected that Draco had that kind of interest, but one should thread carefully there, since it wouldn't do to upset your second in command, however the possibilities were endless. Nevertheless, Lord Riddle could see Draco becoming his protégé and much more. Surely even Lucius would see advantage to that, if Tom promised to make the boy his heir…

"What brings you here, Lucius? I don't think we had an appointment,"

"No, my Lord, you have no reason to punish your secretary this time," Lucius smiled coldly. "But I am afraid that I am a bearer of bad news."

"Of course," the other man nodded as if that was something he had already been expecting. Which was true, he often received bad news, but it was always possible to turn them into better ones.

"This time we might have some serious trouble," Tom motioned for Lucius' to sit down and continue.

"Trouble named Sirius Black."

That got a reaction out of the stoic man, the dark blue eyes narrowed: "I thought we took care of him."

"We did," Lucius Malfoy confirmed. "But since the solution was not permanent I am afraid my wife's dear cousin has managed to leave his kind caretakers. Some time ago, it turns out."

"Why was I not informed?"

Lucius sighed: "Because our friends who were looking after my cousin were reluctant to let us know of his absence."

"Of course," the Russians had obviously been afraid to report Black's escape and had hoped everything would settle by itself. Their fear was not unfounded. The ones who were responsible would be punished.

"Remind me, why we didn't get rid of him for good?"

"To keep his godson, Black's heir from inheriting Sirius' fortune, to allow his cousin, our dear Bella to control his properties during his absence. Besides we thought he might be useful."

"Yes, of course," Tom was already regretting some of his decisions.

Then it had made perfect sense. No one had doubted that Potters' unfortunate demise had been just a terrible accident and they hadn't wanted to attract any unwanted attention and suspicion so they had dealt with Black in that particular way. As far as anyone was concerned Sirius Black had exiled himself to somewhere in Tibet heartbroken by the loss of his friends and didn't want to be found. The only one who hadn't believed their tale had been Remus Lupin, who had thought that Sirius Black was dead. But no one had believed an ordinary schoolteacher and his conspiracy theory over Black's family.

Riddle couldn't say that the decision to appropriate Black's fortune had been wrong. His father, Orion, had had a significant part in Riddle's enterprise. The old man's death had been unfortunate. His son had inherited everything and he had started to investigate with the help of his friend James Potter and would have certainly withdrawn if he had discovered the true nature of his father's business. Or worse.

Black was a reckless, unbalanced idiot – at least according to Bella. James Potter, however, had been too smart and lucky and nosy for his own good. They could not afford him finding out about some aspects of their business.

They had left the Potters' offspring alive as well after he had miraculously survived the car crash, again, not to attract too much attention. He hadn't cared if the boy received his inheritance at the age of eighteen. He would take the money and leave happily oblivious. But with Black in the picture… who knew what would happen. If Albus Dumbledore joined 'the party', the consequences could be unpredictable and most likely dire.

"Black has already filed a petition demanding revoking of Bella's proxy,"

That was not good. He gestured for Lucius to continue.

"We haven't managed to discover who is behind Black. I am certain he is not on his own."

"Albus Dumbledore?"

"Probably, but it has not been confirmed. However, there is a curious thing,"

"Yes?"

"He will be represented by Severus Snape."

"Your son's godfather?"

Lucius nodded scowling, barely hiding his anger.

"I have been watching him for some time and, unfortunately, I don't believe this is a coincidence."

Tom agreed. Severus Snape had never been privy to much information about their organisation. However, they had used his services as a barrister once in a while. He was not pleased to think that some information of their dealings might have gone astray. It was very likely, though.

"It appears he has picked his side, and it is not ours. I must admit that I am disappointed."

Lucius nodded gravely.

"I thought he was my friend and we held similar beliefs. I was unpleasantly surprised to realise that one of my oldest friends had the kind of hung-ups that hinder a man from being as successful as he could. He is a fool. One more thing. My son is staying with him at the moment."

"Ah, Draco. A remarkable young man. But I have heard that there has been some kind of disagreement in the family…"

"Nothing serious. My son is being difficult. A late teenage rebellion, I would say.

He will come around," if he knows, what is good for him, remained unsaid.

"I am sure he will. But his placement with our treacherous Severus… Could it become an advantage?"

"It might,"

"Yes, I am sure you will manage to lead your son back into the fold and bearing presents. But returning to the matter on hand - when did you check on the Potter boy for the last time?"

"About five years ago, I sent Pettigrew I think," it hadn't seemed very important then.

"Hm," he couldn't actually blame Lucius for letting things get out of hand. He hadn't bothered as well. Black had been safely hidden behind the bars.

"Do we have his picture?"

"No, not a recent one,"

"How inconvenient… but there isn't much choice, is there? Find the boy, Lucius," Tom ordered.

Harry Potter was the key. If they got their hands on the boy, they might be able to control Black, among other things.

***

The next day breakfast was a strained affair in Berezin-Black household. Harry looked ready to use his fork on his godfather instead of using it on his fried bacon. Sirius, however was happily blabbering away, completely oblivious to darkening of his godson's mood.

"..and then Viktor says…"

"Sirius…" Harry tried to interrupt.

"—I will go to the end of arse—yes, he really said 'arse', but, he meant 'earth', of course—,"

"Sirius."

"—for my Harry, so London is only like the next door. Did you hear that Misha?"

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed slamming his fork on the table with so much force that the top of the sugar bowl fell off. That finally got his godfather's attention. "Stop trying to fix me up with Viktor!"

"But Harry…" Sirius looked truly confused.

"No! Don't Harry me. It's just… Why did you have to tell him where I was yesterday? Why did you have to give him our London address? Aren't we supposed to be hiding?" The boy demanded pulling at strands of his dark hair in frustration. It was a new nervous habit he had learned since cutting his hair significantly shorter.

"Yes, we are supposed to be hiding, but not from Viktor! And I thought you would be glad to see him," Sirius finished with a wink and Harry felt a strong urge to roll his eyes. "You like Viktor, don't you?"

"Yes…" Harry said and regretted it immediately when he saw his Godfather's triumphant grin. "Yes, I like him, but as a friend!" He hurried to add. "Only as a friend."

"But didn't you…"

"Yes, we did, but… Sirius, I… We met in a club and went out and… then I went home… I was never so serious about it," he glanced at Misha, begging the man to make his lover to understand with his eyes.

"Oh," Sirius suddenly looked as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. "It's just that I thought… I liked Viktor very much and I thought that he might be good for you."

Harry felt a pang of guilt seeing his godfather so disappointed: "He is a great guy…"

"You think so?" Hopeful.

"But I am not ready to be in serious relationship with anyone right now. It's nothing against Viktor," Harry pleaded with his eyes. He needed Sirius to understand and accept.

Sirius scratched his neck thoughtfully: "Alright, Harry, tell me if I got it right – you are not ready, but if you were ready –only theoretically – to have serious relationship with one man, that man could as well be Viktor Krum. Right?"

"Well… I guess, he could… but I am really not ready."

Harry and Viktor had talked in the car after dropping off Hermione. Harry had told the man that he was not sure if he was ready and at the moment so many things were happening in his life… Viktor had promised to be patient. And if he thought about those things logically, maybe the Romanian deserved a chance, maybe Harry should give him one. Maybe he should stop rejecting men just because they were not Malfoy.

Misha shook his head. Harry had finally turned most of his attention on breakfast and hadn't noticed the devious glint in Sirius' eyes. That excited glint could mean only one thing – his love was planning something. Misha just hoped that it wouldn't end with a disaster.

He would have to keep an eye on his lover.

***

For their meeting father had chosen 'Albert'. One's choice of restaurant could tell a lot about the character of the forthcoming meeting. It would always be high-class and expensive, of course, but this time Lucius obviously had chosen a place that provided patrons not only excellent food, but privacy as well. 'Albert' was one of the places where Lucius Malfoy took his business partners and other associates when he didn't want to be overheard.

The fact that Lucius hadn't expected Draco to meet him at the Manor and the choice of the place meant that father was at least pretending to take his son's rebellion seriously. If he really did – that was a different matter. Honestly, Draco was quite sure, that Lucius thought he was indulging him; the man was as arrogant as they came.

As soon as Draco gave the Maitre'd his name, he was led to a secluded area, where Lucius Malfoy was already waiting for him.

"Hello, father," he greeted first, plainly, refusing to play any games.

"Draco," the older man nodded. "Sit down."

Draco wanted to snort. He would have to sit down, unless he wanted to stay standing there while they were talking. Of course when he sat it would appear like Draco had taken Lucius' order.

It didn't bother Draco though. Trying to assert dominance this way… it was ridiculous.

Draco sat down without saying a word. He didn't pick up the menu demonstrating that while he had chosen to indulge father with this meeting, he had no intention to stay for long and they were not on good enough terms to share a meal.

Lucius didn't insist. He was not stupid and he wanted to talk to Draco and didn't want to give the boy a reason to leave.

"How have you been? Has Severus been amiable? Ah, but what am I saying… it's Severus. Of course he hasn't. When has Severus Snape accommodated anyone?" Lucius smiled amused by his own joke.

"I have no objections. At least he will not go behind my back," he wanted to wipe that smirk off the man's face.

Lucius' eyes suddenly grew cold and hard: "I beg to differ. I am sure you are not aware, but he has gone behind b**my**/b back very recently."

Draco allowed himself a sneer: "I am sure, with a good reason. And you are wrong, I am aware. He might have mentioned something like that."

It was apparent that Lucius could barely reign in his anger. So for a moment he said nothing, but sipped his wine.

Then the man let out a long suffering sigh: "Draco, I understand…''

"No, you don't and even if you do, you don't care father,"

"You are my son, just because of some misunderstanding…"

"It was not a misunderstanding. What you did, you did purposely and don't deny it was you."

"I was looking out for you Draco," it was obvious that it was not going to work, judging by the younger blond's expression. "I might have misjudged the situation, son," Lucius conceded.

Draco snorted. Father had not been looking out for anyone. He had done it, because he could, because he took perverse pleasure in ruling the lives of those who were close to him.

"I understand that you are angry, son, and I am ready to make it up to you. Nevertheless, at the moment we can't allow such minor incident to divide us. The family, we must stay united. While I don't mind you living with Severus–"

"So it is about Severus."

"Yes, Draco. It is about Severus," Lucius admitted testily annoyed with his son's abruptness. "Unfortunately, your godfather has betrayed me, us."

"He has done nothing to me," Draco countered.

"This is a very serious matter, son," Lucius' tone was warning.

"Yes. I assume it is, since Severus told me the same and he has not lied to me so far," Draco ignored his father's scandalized expression. "This man, Black, who is he?"

That got Lucius' attention: "He told you about Black?"

"Nothing much, " Draco knew how to play games too. By giving up some information he hoped to make father talk. "But the man had stopped by the office two days ago."

"Really? Was he alone?" Lucius was instantly on alert.

"No."

"Who was with him? Was there a boy? A teenager, around eighteen, dark hair—"

Draco straightened in his seat and put down his glass: "What has Harry to do with anything?" He didn't want the man anywhere near Harry! It didn't matter that they were not even together and the brat had… despite everything, he didn't want Lucius to know about Harry, to be anywhere near Harry, to have anything to do with Harry.

"Harry? Do you mean Harry Potter?"

Bloody, fucking… Draco knew that he had slipped. He stood up – too fast, but it was too late for playing it cool.

"I have to go…"

"No wait a minute…"

Draco was not going to.

"Draco!"

He heard Lucius call after him, but made his way towards the door without looking back.

"Bloody, buggering hell…" Draco swore under his breath. He had totally lost it when he had seen father's way too interested expression as soon as he had said Harry's name. Was Severus right? Was the boy in danger? In danger from Lucius?

Draco needed time. To think, to make decisions… decisions he was not ready to make and probably never would be.

But, damn, he couldn't let anything to happen to Harry.

When did his life become so complicated? When had he started to feel so much, so deeply?

***

Lucius carefully set down his glass and released the delicate stem from the vice like grip of his long, elegant fingers. It would not do, to break it. He could not be seen throwing tantrums in public, could he?

However, this did not change the fact that right now he would have very much liked to smash the glass against the wall. Lucius was starting to loose patience with the boy. This was not the right time for his son to start acting as a petulant child. Especially, if he knew something about Harry Potter. But what? How? From where did Draco know little Harry? And, it had seemed, knew very well.

Something about the situation was gnawing Lucius. Something… he couldn't quite put finger on it.

Oh, but he was definitely going to look into it.

And he would definitely have to do something about Draco, and rather sooner than later as he had planned, since it was obvious that they were going to need him.

***

Misha walked into the sitting room frowning. Remus looked up from his newspaper and Sirius paused the movie he and Harry had been watching – they were perfect movie watching companions, because nor Harry, nor Sirius had seen any of the new blockbusters.

Misha was holding some sheets of paper in his hand and from the crease between his brows the other men could tell, that he had something to tell them, so they just waited.

"I just got this from Snape. It was delivered by a courier. It says that Harry has to come to the GobLink, meet their representatives so they can sign the inheritance over to him. Preferably in three days time after his eighteenth birthday. If for some reason it's not possible for Harry to come, he must let them know, so they can make other arrangements."

"Sounds reasonable enough," Remus said folding up his newspaper.

"Yes," Sirius agreed. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Misha however didn't sound convinced at all. "Nothing's particulary wrong with that…"

Someone's cell phone went off.

Misha reached into his pocket: "It's mine. From Dumbledore. Hello, professor Dumbledore, how can I help you?"

While the Russian listened, making noncommittal sounds, indicating that he was paying attention, the crease between his brows returned and started getting deeper. Sirius had a sudden urge to get up, go to his lover and even it out with his lips. As far as he was concerned every problem that had something to do with Misha's body could be treated by his lips.

Remus on the other hand was trying to work out what he felt about the fact that Albus Dumbledore had obviously chosen Misha as his contact person. After all he and Sirius were the ones who had known James and were directly involved in the situation… but the Headmaster had probably chosen wisely. It was obvious that Mihail was the leader among them. Harry was too young, Sirius too brave and reckless, Remus himself (he could admit that) too careful.

In the beginning he had not really trusted the Russian with his money, his strange way of life and dubious morals, but he could see that the man really cared for Sirius and had grown to care for Harry as well. Remus did trust Misha. Not that the man wasn't a bit of a mystery still, but…

Harry was fidgeting nervously. He could feel that something was not right. Misha was concerned which meant that Sirius could see it very well and was getting al fidgety too, honestly, the boy had started to think that they shared some sort of telepathic connection.

Finally Misha closed his phone and slid it back into the pocket of his suede jacket.

"Dumbledore has been watching activities of our mutual 'friends'. He says that they have been busy lately. They have stopped by the University, shown particular interest in Harry's relatives--"

"What about the Weasleys?" Harry interrupted him.

Misha shook his head: "Dumbledore's people are keeping an eye on them. Do you think the Dursleys knew that you were staying with the Weasley family, Harry?"

The boy bit on his lower lip thoughtfully: "Erm… well, I don't really know, I mean… no, I doubt they knew. I mean, I haven't seen them since Vernon…ehe, since… well you know…"

_i__'Threw Harry out on the street,'/i_ the three older men would have finished the sentence for him. Misha's eye caught Sirius' and understanding passed between them. The Dursleys would pay one way or another as soon as the current mess would be dealt with.

"That is very good, Harry," Misha continued. "Apparently not many people know that you lived with Weasleys and not many people knew you at the University. Your friends had been talked to. They had been warned not to disclose any information about you to anyone. From what I gathered, Dumbledore implied that your disappearance and the secrecy have something to do with the witness program or something like that, really hush-hush," Misha grinned, he apparently found it amusing.

Harry's smile was sad – he was glad that his friends were safe and not surprised that most of the people at Hogwarts had not even noticed his existence, sure, it was convenient right now, but it kind of stung a bit. That he could just disappear one day without anyone noticing.

"One thing we can't deny. Riddle's people are looking for Harry," Misha went on. "What concerns us most right now, is that they know that Harry is coming of age in two days and has to meet the representatives from GobLink to claim his inheritance. The building is being watched and we can't know if they don't have someone inside as well."

"Shite,"

"Yes, Sirius, as you said,"

"So," Remus wanted a clarification. "Taking Harry to Goblin- erm, representatives of GobLink could be dangerous?"

"Yes,"

"So, maybe we should postpone this for couple of weeks?" Remus suggested.

Misha shook his head: "No. We can't delay it for more than a week or maximum two and they know it. They will still be there two weeks later."

"So what do we do?" Harry could see that Misha was planning.

"We will have to find a way to bring you into GobLink and smuggle you back out without our watchers noticing," it was obvious that Misha didn't know the answer to the main question yet, which was, how?

Suddenly Sirius sprang up: "I know! I know! We use disguise!"

Misha looked at his lover pride shining in his eyes. Sirius could be crafty when it became necessary. The idea was very simple. Maybe too simple, but could work, Misha decided. He had been contemplating crazy schemes like delivering a huge, human-sized package or… but disguise was probably a much better idea.

"I am a genius, am I not?" Sirius was excitedly bouncing from one foot to another.

"And modest too," the Russian deadpanned, but then graced the pouting man with a warm smile. "Yes, i_dorogoi/i_ you did well."

"What kind of disguise you mean?" Harry's voice piped up. He sounded strangely suspicious.

"The less you look like yourself the better," Misha smiled at the boy.

Harry pursued his lips, his face completely closed up, showing no emotion at all.

Then Misha remembered something: "Wait a minute… didn't you have some experience with disguising yourself as a--"

"No!" The boy exclaimed, the pretence of nonchalance gone from his face. "No way! I refuse!"

Sirius turned towards his godson, his lips twisted into a mischievous smirk.

No, not again, Harry groaned.

TBC

A/N: Another chapter. I hope, you enjoyed it. Let me know.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!


	15. Chapter 15

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title**: Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humour :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story (loosely based on). Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: It's not too bad

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Fandom does not belong to me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing, not betaedited.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

On the morning of his eighteenth birthday Harry was waken up by someone pouncing on his bed and consequently on him too.

"Ghrh…" the boy moaned prying open his lids and met Sirius' light blue eyes – the man was kneeling on the foot of his bed on all fours and grinning like a madman.. Honestly, Harry sighed quietly, his godfather's manners sometimes were positively doggish.

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to the-best-godson-in-the-whole-wide-world, happy birthday to you!" Sirius sang very much off-tune.

Harry couldn't' help, a smile was tugging on his lips. Sirius was also the best godfather in the whole wide world. Harry couldn't imagine his life without the man anymore. If something happened to him, if… Harry doubted that he would be ever the same, if he lost Sirius now.

"The breakfast is ready," Sirius announced proudly. "Sirius Black's birthday special is waiting for you downstairs, so hurry up!"

Now Harry was getting worried.

But in the end it was the best birthday he had ever had. Well, especially since the rest of them had been spent with the Dursleys and on his seventeenth birthday he had been thrown out on the street… God, but that had happened only a year ago.

Anyway, his birthday celebration was great. Even if Sirius was a bit over the top with his jokes and the pile of presents. Even if Remus was being driven a bit crazy with all the excitement. Even if Ron was still uncomfortable with him at times and Harry would have sworn that Hermione had started to suspect something. Even if Viktor was there acting all boyfriend-ish. Even if Mrs. Weasley and Ginny (whom Misha had invited) also liked Viktor and everyone liking Viktor was getting old. Despite too much fuss over his person and too many minor annoyances Harry's birthday was a good day for once.

However, after the treat that had been the day before, Harry was nowhere ready for the first of August.

He had to get up early, drag himself into the shower only to find Misha and Sirius already waiting in the room when the boy came out of the bathroom with of clothing and other stuff that made an outfit piled on his bed. Looking eager.

"I hate you guys right now, alright?" He had groaned.

"I guess that's fair," Sirius had replied with an unapologetic grin plastered all over his handsome face.

At least the outfit was not revealing this time – if one could call skirt a couple of inches above knee unrevealing when it was on a man... Well, but Harry was trying to find as much positive about the circumstances as possible or else he would have to become terribly upset with Misha and Sirius (especially Sirius) and Remus, and that was not something the boy wanted to happen.

So the positive – he had gotten to choose the clothes. Well, yes, the choice had been somewhat limited - among four woman's suits that had all seemed very similar to Harry, their only difference being the colour. Misha had rolled his eyes and said that it was obvious that the boy was no real drag-queen since he had no taste and appreciation for clothing.

Harry had taken that as a compliment sticking his tongue out at Sirius.

But when Misha had proposed to chose the costume for Harry he had declined on principle. To his dissatisfaction the Russian had shrugged and replied that he had bought the four outfits anyway, so technically he had already chosen them. Harry had fumed and then he had thrown Misha and Sirius out of the room with:

"I am allowed to change alone at least?"

So like that it had come to this - Harry standing in the front of the mirror, clad in smallish, light grey jacket with black trim, simple skirt that showed more leg than he was comfortable with, white, silk blouse that was so light that he was surprised that the padded bra didn't show through. He had also tried to argue that the dark-grey pumps were too high and he wouldn't be able to walk in them, but Sirius had pointed out that Harry was not going to have to walk far. And then there were the stockings. Misha hadbought him real stockings with lace on the tops of them a couple of shades lighter than his skin. For some reason wearing them made Harry feel… kinky?

But even if he didn't look too bad overall, Harry had never wanted for Sirius, Remus or Misha to see him dressed up as a girl. Not to mention Misha's bodyguards who were like the toughest blokes he had ever know and probably were never going to respect him again.

Yes, he did know that it was for a good reason, but Harry suspected that Sirius was having too much fun with this. Harry had overheard him asking Misha if he hadn't seen the charger for the digital camera. Bastard.

"Are you decent, Harry?" Misha's voice called out from behind the door.

Harry snorted, because he didn't think 'decent' applied to this situation, but he was getting tired from arguing: "Yes! Decent…"

Misha pushed the door open smiling broadly and revealing Sirius and Remus who were standing behind him.

"You look good, Harry," the Russian's smile widened even more. "We have only one thing to take care of. Your hair."

Harry's hand instantly went to his head to tuck a lock of the short, dark hair behind his ear. Well, it was not very short, but if one compared to what he had had before…

"Don't worry, Harry, you will be wearing a wig," Misha explained and emptied the bag he was carrying on the bed. "I bought several, so we could pick."

Harry nodded. Of course.

Sirius excitedly bounced towards the bed and picked up a curly blond thing that reminded Harry of cotton candy: "How about this one?"

Misha raised an eyebrow at his lover: "You are finding way too much excitement in this, _dorogoi_, maybe I should have picked up a dress or two for you as well? Or how do you call it—a negligee? I think you would look spectacular in deep crimson."

"Misha!" Sirius spluttered his cheeks reddening and Harry burst out laughing, his dark mood lightening immediately.

After that Harry was in a much better mood and Sirius was as cowed as Sirius Black could be. For about ten minutes, but still… They dismissed the blond wigs right away, since they didn't look natural on Harry. All the brown and black ones were alright, but all the men in the room stopped breathing when he put on a red wig. It was not the Weasley red, which was more orange than anything, but really deep, intense red falling over Harry's shoulders in soft, crimson waves.

Sirius and Remus were suddenly both very quiet, staring at the boy as if mesmerised.

"What?" Harry who was straightening his head dress asked, baffled when he realised that Sirius had stopped bouncing.

Sirius looked down at his feet.

"Erm…" Remus cleared his throat. "You look really… God, Harry, but this is so strange, but your eyes and your hair… you look like Lily. Like your mum."

Sirius nodded and lifted his eyes to look at the boy again: "It is as if she were standing here in front of us."

"Oh…" Harry couldn't have known, he didn't really remember his mother. "Then I'll better take it off…"

"No! No, Harry," Remus protested. "It's alright. You really do look nice and we don't mind," he looked at Sirius for confirmation and his friend nodded still looking at Harry with a strange look in his eyes.

"Yes, we don't, it's just that we thought you looked more like James and now… now I am not so sure about it. I think it was mostly the hair and the glasses."

They stood there in silence for some time. Harry looking in the mirror and everyone else looking at Harry.

"Red hair it is then," Misha broke the silence clearing his throat. "It suits you."

Harry nodded, staring at the image in the mirror. He wondered why was it that everyone always wanted him to be someone else and why it didn't disturb him so much this time. Maybe because for once he was sure that they liked the real Harry well enough and had no reason to be afraid that they might prefer the person he pretended to be…

Or, maybe, he was reading too much in it. Maybe those were just his old fears and insecurities reminding Harry of themselves.

***

Despite the whining and making puppy eyes, Misha and Remus had both agreed that it would be better, if they left Sirius at home. If it had been up to Harry, he would have caved, the boy was sure of it, because his godfather could be convincing, but the two older men had developed some sort of immunity after putting up with Sirius Black for some years.

So that meant on his trip to GobLink bank Harry was accompanied by Remus, Misha, the ever present bodyguards and Tonks, who was coming along on request from Albus Dumbledore. Also they were to meet Severus Snape who would be waiting at the bank.

Seeing Snape was something Harry was not looking forward to. He believed that the man hated him. Why, the boy had no idea, but the dark man appeared to be the kind of person who didn't need justification when it came to actively disliking someone.

They stopped across the street from the bank.

"Wait, wait a minute," Tonks stopped Harry with a hand on his knee when the boy was about to get out. She flipped open her phone. "Hya, King. So, how does it look? Aha, aha, alright… yes, I understand, yes. Got it."

"Ok, guys, our 'friends' are already here, as we expected, by the way. They are watching the building, probably have been here since yesterday, we could try to distract them, but I don't think it's worth it. We might simply attract their attention that way. After all, there is little chance that they would recognise Harry decked out like this," Tonks winked at the boy, who flushed as if on command.

"Alright, let's get going. Everyone looks unsuspicious," she ordered half seriously.

Harry has no time to worry about looking unsuspicious since getting from the car to the front door of the GobLink Bank was quite a chore when one was a boy on two inch heels for the first time in his life.

"Oh, my," Tonks gave the boy a sympathetic look. "Who forced you into those feet-killers?"

"Three very, very sick men," Harry grumbled and Tonks snickered.

Despite being forced into drag, Harry had still been in a pretty good mood. Not like it would have changed anything if he hadn't been.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when they walked into the foyer of the bank. There, standing next to scowling Severus Snape, was Draco Malfoy.

Harry's breath caught and he stumbled.

"Alright?" Misha caught the boy by his elbow.

Harry hardly had the presence of mind to nod. What the hell was Draco Malfoy doing here?

***

Nothing could have prepared Severus Snape for it. He was a man who never lost his bearings. Nothing could surprise him. He had seen it all. But this… this was impossible. Lily Evans had just walked in through the door.

He blinked once and then again, thinking that his eyes were deceiving him, because it couldn't be. She had been dead for seventeen years. Oh, God, but it was her. It was her red hair framing the beautiful, gentle face, rays of sun playing in the soft waves, her incredible, brilliant green eyes, her cheekbones and slender form-- but it was not her mouth, not her chin, whomever this was she was shorter and was missing those few endearing freckles and simply wasn't his Lily, just very similar to her.

But why was Lupin pushing that Evans look-alike into his direction? What kind of travesty was it? What a sick joke!

The Russian was extending his hand in greeting as if everything was fine and dandy.

"Mr. Snape--"

"What is the meaning of this!" Severus demanded glaring draggers at… Oh, God, it was Potter…

"It's a disguise, Severus," Lupin was using that placating tone which he had perfected during years of hanging out with too loose canons like Black and Potter senior.

But Severus was not in a mood to be placated, especially not by the bloody schoolteacher: "Do you find this amusing, Lupin?" He gestured at Potter, who was staring at the ground before his feet and blushing like a schoolgirl for some reason.

"I certainly don't!"

"Severus, please, it's just a disguise. Stop making a scene, we can't afford to attract attention."

"Of course you **had** to dress him up to look like his dead mother, did you?" Snape snarled through clenched teeth. "I can't believe this!"

The boy looked up, his green eyes wide: "I… do I really look so much like her? Did you know her? I'm sorry, if I… sorry…"

Oh, but the resemblance was uncanny. Severus found the eyes alone too disturbing to look into, and this, this was simply more than he could take.

He wanted to point out that he had definitely known Lily and, oh, yes, Potter in drag looked too much like her and he should have realised that this was overstepping all the boundaries of appropriate… but then he suddenly realised that the boy couldn't have known, because he had not known Lily.

He was not cruel enough to point that out though.

However, he could still blame Black and Lupin and make the disgusting delinquents know, what he thought of them…

"Hey! We really don't have time for this, Mr. Snape," surprisingly it was Tonks,who stepped in. "And, what I really want to know is, who you are," she gave Draco The Look.

Severus turned glanced at his godson, who was staring at the Potter boy a bit too closely and whose eyes had turned completely unfocused. He had known it was a bad idea to take Draco along from the start and had tried to talk the boy out of it. Unsuccessfully.

He had insisted that Draco moved back to the Manor or better yet stayed with one of his friends and stayed out of the conflict that was about to break out. Draco had been unrelenting.

~_Flashback~_

"_No, Draco."_

"_Yes, Severus."_

"_No! You are not coming with me tomorrow."_

"_I am working with you, so it would be logical for me to-- and you were the one who said that I had to pick a side. I think I have picked."_

"_You think? You don't sound so sure and __**I**__**think **__I suggested you to stay out of this. Maybe I didn't spell it out, but I thought you were a bright boy and should have understood the subtext. Was I mistaken?" Then he had sighed and spoke in a milder tone. " I am not going to be responsible if something will happen to you because of me. I assume I should have never allowed you to choose for yourself in the first place."_

"_It is not your side I have chosen godfather. I met Lucius."_

_Severus had given him a disbelieving look: "Ah.. So it's like that... But, Draco, do you honestly think I am taking you with me so you can spy on us for your father?"_

_Draco had rolled his eyes: "No. You don't understand. That is not what I mean. I am not going to be on your or on Lucius' side."_

_Severus started loosing his patience: "Could you please leave the riddles for another time? Cut the crap, Draco."_

"_Lucius asked me about Harry."_

"_Potter Junior? Of course he did," Severus had snorted. Lucius was not a fool. Then he had realised something, that made him startle in worry: „Tell me, does he know about you and the boy?"_

"_Maybe. If he doesn't, he will sooner or later," so much was true. " Severus, how dangerous is my father to Harry?"_

_Severus didn't really want to answer that._

"_Severus"_

_He had never lied to his godson. He had told the boy to mind his own business or that he was not going to answer something, but had never lied to Draco. _

"_Very."_

_Draco nodded as if his godfather had only verified what he had already believed in._

"_I am going with you tomorrow."_

_Severus had looked very hard into his godson's eyes. It had been calm before the storm. He had exploded._

"_I can't believe it! You are getting involved in the whole mess because of that boy! He is not even your--"Severus couldn't say it. "Whatever, anymore. You can't be serious!"_

_Draco didn't say anything for a moment. Then he looked back at Severus seriously: "What did you expect my reasons for 'getting involved in the whole mess' to be? Did you expect me to be appalled because it turned out that my father's dealings were even less honest than I expected them to be? But, you know, I wonder what your reasons are. I wonder what or whom you are getting involved for."_

_That had successfully shut Severus up. He really wasn't in a position to criticize Draco, if he really thought about it._

~_End of flashback~_

"Draco Malfoy, my assistant," Severus introduced.

"Malfoy!" Tonks exclaimed. "Malfoy like Lucius Malfoy? Are you crazy, Snape? Why did you bring Malfoy's kid here?"

While Severus had been reluctant to have Draco there, he was not going to stand for the girl doubting his mental capacities: "I am aware of Draco's parentage and if he is here, then it means that I had allowed him here, and I am ready to vouch for his trustworthiness."

He could see Berezinski watching them like a hawk from where he was standing behind Potter's party. He could tell the girl to shut up, but the Russian Severus couldn't dismiss.

"Should I remind you, Nymphadora that your mother was Black and she shares that with Potter's godfather? Yet, you are here today, not somewhere getting friendly with any of your aunts. Draco is my godson and he is not his father. Besides, do you really believe that I would have risked something that I have been working towards for years, just because I had this compulsive desire to bring my godson along?" Even if Severus was still talking to Tonks, it was said completely for Berezinski's benefit. The girl had no say about anything, Lupin was too passive and easily swayed and Potter could hardly think while Draco was in the same room.

"I assume we should move, if we don't want to be late," the Russian spoke up with a nod at Severus and a faint smile turning up one corner of his mouth.

Despite Berezinski's poor taste in partners, Severus couldn't help it; he was starting to respect the man. Besides if he started holding choice of partners against people around him… he would never hold anything against Lily, never… and Draco was staring at the Potter's legs where they disappeared beneath his skirt.

With Potter looking more like Evans, it took 'disturbing' to an entirely new level.

***

Harry didn't understand what Tonk's problem with Draco was. However, it was becoming obvious that all those people, who were starting to show up in his life, were connected in many ways. It was somewhat disturbing. All those facts that kept coming up – it was freaking him out at the moment.

Not to mention that he could feel too many eyes on himself. Draco's, Snape's, not to mention all the men who they passed on the way to the office 408.

"And who would be Mr. Potter here?" Mr. Griphook grumbled sullenly watching the people who had invaded his office.

Harry unsurely stepped forward: "That would be me."

"You," Mr. Griphook made a disbelieving face.

"While Mr. Potter's lifestyle may be questionable," Snape stepped in, glaring sideways at the boy. "Yes, THAT is Harry Potter. Here. His birth certificate and other documentation you might want to see. I **do **hope you will not want to see more proof."

Mr. Griphook latched onto the folder almost hungrily leafing through it, grumbling something to himself. Then he looked up, fixing the black, beady eyes on Harry for about thirty seconds or even longer. Then he nodded and reached for something in the drawer of his desk.

"Here. Have your barrister look through these, then sign," Mr. Griphook pushed a folder towards Harry.

Snape leafed through the documents and then beckoned Harry closer: "I believe everything is correct."

Harry sat down on the only chair other than Mr. Griphook's own: "Can I borrow a pen?"

"Oh, Potter, really—"

"Here,"

Harry was too aware that his cheeks flushed as his hand closed around the ballpoint coming into contact with pale, long fingers…

"Thank you," he managed to croak out and Draco finally let go of his end of the pen.

"It was my pleasure,"

Oh, God, what was Draco playing at? Coming there, standing so close to Harry, so close that Harry could smell him, touching him--

"Mr. Potter," Snape's impatient voice brought the boy back to the task at hand. "We don't have all day. At least some of us have more important things to do."

Harry started signing a sheet after a sheet, actually grateful to Snape who kept pointing at the right places, because he would have missed the dotted lines for sure, because all he could think of was Draco.

Harry's turbulent mind registered that Mr. Griphook said something after he and Snape had divided the documents between themselves, but he was feeling too flustered to concentrate on actual words. He could still feel Draco's touch burning his fingers.

The boy all but bolted out of the room without properly saying 'goodbye' as soon as they were free to go.

"I… I need to use the bathroom! I'll be… be back in a minute…" with that he dashed out of the door.

***

"We have a problem," Tonks announced after putting away her cell phone. "King says that Pettigrew is here and--"

"Who? Pettigrew? What Pettigrew?" Remus Lupin didn't let her finish.

"Um, Peter Pettigrew."

Remus eyes widened: "Peter? Peter's dead! He can't be here! He's dead."

"No, he's not, he's had plastic surgery and his records have been erased by someone from inside. Very convenient that, just imagine, to have an invisible man in your service. An officially dead man, in fact, not that he's the most capable of Riddle's employees, but--"

"Wait a minute," Remus stopped her babbling. "What is going on here?"

Tonks suddenly looked guilty: "I'm sorry, I should have realised that you didn't know. Pettigrew's death was staged; he is alive and playing for the other side. I'm really sorry--"

"Lupin will have the rest of his life to moan about the loss of traitorous rat of a friend—"

"Why is this Pettigrew a problem?" Misha interrupted Snape, which earned him a glare.

"He will recognize me," Remus sighed raking fingers through his hair; he was quite shaken by the revelation.

"And, naturally, he will assume that Potter is with you, so despite the disguise--" Snape paused as if he had suddenly realised something. "--and if he will see Potter 'disguised' as he is next to you, he would certainly put two and two together. Just because you couldn't be sensible for at least once and had to dress the boy to look exactly like Evans!" He was still feeling sore about it – that much was obvious and Snape was not the kind of man, who let things go.

"Severus, not now!" Remus' tone was pleading and exasperated. Honestly, Severus could be like a dog with a bone.

"Then we need to split up," Misha announced. "I don't believe we could sneak Remus out. There is probably someone already waiting for us. However they will recognise Remus and will try to follow him. If they thought Harry was with Remus they would certainly follow. If I were driving, I could loose them. Only we need someone to pose as Harry--"

"I could do that!" Tonks exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Miss Tonks, are you sure?" Misha didn't look as eager. "It would be dangerous."

The young woman looked affronted: "I am a police officer, man! If anyone's here is qualified for the job, it's me!"

"She certainly looks more like a teenage boy than the boy himself," grumbled Snape.

She gave the man a finger and made a point by pulling the hood of her hoodie over her head.

"Then we three will lead that Pettigrew away and you Mr. Snape will wait and then take Harry," Misha conceded.

"No."

Everyone's' eyes turned towards the blond man who hadn't said a word so far.

Remus and Tonks both found the young Malfoy a bit disturbing; with the chiselled features and too beautiful face, which showed no expression and eerily light grey eyes, he seemed a bit inhuman. It was impossible to tell, what he was thinking or feeling and it was like the man was radiating cold.

"If those people are there to watch you, then they know who Severus is and might follow him too, especially when they will see him in company of someone unknown. They might know me as well, however they most likely don't know of my reasons for being here."

Misha thought to himself that neither did anyone else, except maybe Snape.

"I might as well be here to spy on you for my father. They will in all probability dismiss me after sending someone after you and Severus. They will not find it strange to see me in company of a young, good-looking woman. Besides if they do follow me, my car is faster than Severus' and he drives like an old lady."

Snape narrowed his eyes, about to say something, but Misha hurried to speak first.

"I am ready to trust your driving skills. However, something else concerns me. Tell me, why would I trust you with Harry?"

When Draco met the Russians' hard, light brown eyes, he almost let the smirk show on his face. Berezinski had meant exactly what he had said. He was the one who was going to decide if Draco could be trusted. The man was very domineering in his own, subtle way. It was admirable and almost amusing; however Draco make a mental note to himself not to let the man's outward calm and gentleness to lull him into false sense of security. The man had the potential of becoming dangerous.

Draco didn't like the idea of explaining himself, but obviously he had no choice. Well, actually, he could just turn around and walk away, because Harry was none of his business, right? That would be the logical thing to do. Draco gritted his teeth.

"I have a bone to pick with my father. Right now I am very motivated to keep whatever he wants away from him. Besides, if Severus thought I could not be trusted, I wouldn't be here."

Misha shot the barrister an enquiring look.

"Yes, yes, I am vouching for him," the man almost rolled his eyes. Personally he was sure that Draco's offer to help had much less to do with Lucius than he had just claimed. Not that his godson was ready to admit it to anyone, or even to himself.

***

Harry patted his cheeks and forehead with the ball, which he had made from a piece of paper towel. He would have gladly washed his face, but he had so much make-up on that it would certainly ruin it and turn him into a parody about a cross-dressing panda. So the boy kept pressing the paper tower against the safe areas of his face in hope to cool off his burning skin some.

Draco's presence in the room had made him so flustered that he had been forced to flee. It had gotten worse. The attraction, the way Draco Malfoy's presence made his pulse quicken and turned his brain into mush.

He had suddenly realised that it had been much easier when he had been away and had been able to pretend that Draco didn't exist. He had lived in other reality, but now he was back and couldn't avoid his past anymore.

Past? Ha! It had been only a couple of months.

Harry almost jumped out of his shoes when the door opened. Well, but it was a public bathroom, wasn't it?

Because it was on his mind, it was also the first thing out of his mouth.

"What are you doing here? This is the ladies' room," Harry blurted out the first words that entered his mind.

Draco let his eyes travel up the boy's form, taking in his attire, he raised an eyebrow: "And you are one to talk."

Harry flushed and bit his tongue, since he could think of no smart comeback and sometimes it was better to keep one's mouth shut and not to affirm other's suspicions of one's lacking mental capacities.

Draco crossed the room with three paces and the next moment he was already there, near the sinks, towering over Harry, with his hand on Harry's elbow.

"I am driving you home," he said almost on Harry's ear and at that moment it was good that there was a hand on the younger boy's elbow, because his knees went weak.

"Are you alright?" The blond had gall to ask.

'_No!'_ Harry wanted to shout. _'I'm fucking far from 'alright'!'_ But could just nod.

"Then we should go."

"Go?" Harry gaped. "We? Go where?"

"Yes, we. You are coming with me, Harry. And, where do you think we are going?"

TBC

*_dorogoy – _darling in Russian

**A/N:** Thank you for still being with me, my faithful. I am a bit stuck with my stories recently and that I got this chapter out is a lot, believe me. I promise to do my best to finish the story, though, but can't make any promises.

Someone wanted to know, how old was Draco. Well, he is about four, five years older than Harry.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author**: TheSiner

**Title**: Another Cinderella Story

**Genre**: Romance, Drama and some attempted humour :)

**Pairing**: Harry/Draco (main)

**Summary**: HP/DM, AU, no magic. Modern day Cinderella story (loosely based on). Staring: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. This is a story about fairy-tale-like love from the first sight, something which I believe happens only in fairy tales.

**Rating**: It's not too bad

**Disclaimer**: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. Fandom does not belong to me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Warnings**: slash (duh!), OOC, A/U, non-canon, swearing, not betaedited.

* * *

**Chapter ****Sixteen**

Harry glared at Draco with all he had.

"I am taking you home."

"Wait a minute!" Harry stopped and pulled his arm out of Draco's grip. "What is going on here? Why are **you** taking me home? Why should I go anywhere with you?" He was not going to simply do as Draco said. That train was long gone. Who did Draco Malfoy think he was!

"Your--" Draco paused looking for the right term. "--friends have something to do. I am sure they will explain everything later. Now I will take you."

Harry crossed arms over his chest: "I could always call a cab."

"No, that is out of question," Draco was somewhat surprised and intrigued by this new Harry, who objected him.

"Watch me!" Harry retorted and dig into the handbag for his phone.

Draco raised his eyebrows. He had never thought Harry could be this stubborn.

"Harry," he tried. "It was decided that you will be coming with me. Stop being difficult."

"I'll be as difficult as I wish to be!" No way. He was not spending any amount of time in the same car with Draco Malfoy! Out of question.

Draco could have stood there and argued with Harry for hours, besides the stubborn set of jaw looked very well on him and the outfit… Draco couldn't really afford to contemplate the outfit or he would do something absolutely inappropriate and they wouldn't be going anywhere… no, he wouldn't do anything, because he had no right. Harry was not his anymore.

But they really didn't have time for this. Draco couldn't stand the thought of the boy being in danger.

He grabbed Harry's arm around the wrist, took the small cell phone and slid it in the pocket of his jacket.

"Hey!" The boy protested. "What the hell--"

"If you think I can't throw you over my shoulder and carry you to the car, you are mistaken," with satisfaction he observed the boy's cheeks reddening. Draco was sure that they were recalling the same memory. Masked ball, garden, Harry dressed as a harem girl…

Draco cleared his throat: "We don't have time for this Harry. Coming? Or you need my help?"

"Do I have a choice?" Harry snapped sullenly.

"Depends on how you look at it," Draco said and held the bathroom door open for his companion.

He opened for Harry every door they had to walk through. Three before they reached Draco's car. When the blond went for the car door, Harry snapped.

"Stop it! I'm not a girl! I can open the bloody door for myself," he hissed.

Draco wisely didn't say anything. He hid a smirk. He had never known that Harry could be this feisty. The boy had been so docile and sweet when they had been together. Had he changed so much or had he always had this fire burning inside? But, what had awakened it then?

Harry had his arms crossed on his chest over his fake breasts He was glaring out of the window and fuming as they left the parking lot. He didn't even notice that they went in the other direction. He was trying to ignore Draco's existence too hard. This was impossible, of course, since he was in the bastard's car and the bastard himself was sitting next to him. When Harry closed his eyes trying to block the blonde out, he could still smell Draco all around himself.

How could Misha and Remus do this to him? How could they?

Ah, right, they didn't know. It was unlikely that Draco had told them about their history. Unlikely that he was proud of their fling. Yes, 'fling' was the appropriate term. Harry refused to call it relationship. It was an error of judgement, naivety.

Draco glanced in the rear-view mirror. He didn't see anybody following them. So, the plan was working. Good. He could relax. The only problem was that relaxing meant that all of his attention didn't have to be on driving and some could stray to the only interesting object around.

Harry.

Harry, who had turned his face away and was hiding it behind the shock of red hair. The colour looked nice; it suited him. Of course, Draco liked Harry's hair the way it was as much. Oh, the boy was too pretty for his own good, especially with the new haircut and clothes that didn't hide everything he had.

But this get up made him look more exotic, intriguing. The outfit was just like some chocolate sauce over his favourite ice-cream. Alright, he should not think of Harry, ice-cream and chocolate sauce at the same time, if he wanted to stay on the road…

Easier said, than done.

Draco blinked. Harry's skirt had hitched up very high and he had a great view of not only the long legs, but he could see the lace on the tops of his stockings too. He was too familiar with those legs to stay indifferent.

He needed a distraction. Fast.

Draco cleared his throat: "So… how are you doing? How is your boyfriend?"

The sudden question gave Harry a start.

"What boyfriend?"

"The guy from the club," Draco prodded, suddenly feeling more annoyed than he probably should. Why was he asking?

"Victor is fine," Harry should have denied that the football player was his boyfriend, like he always did, because he wasn't (unless one asked Sirius), but didn't out of sheer spite. Let Draco think that he was dating Krum.

Draco swallowed loudly and gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to hurt somebody. Preferably _Victor._

Harry felt a sudden surge off irritation. Why did Draco asked about his _boyfriend _if after he was going to star at the road mutely? What did he expect? Did he think that Harry would deny everything or… what right did Malfoy have to act offended?

He had no right!

"Why are you here Draco?" It came out much harsher than he had intended, but Harry didn't care.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean! Why were you there today? Why are you driving me home now? Why are you getting involved in all of this? It has nothing to do with you."

That was an easy one: "Severus is my employer and my godfather."

That was **the** easy answer at least.

Harry didn't know how to reply and if he should reply at all. What else had he wanted to hear? Still, he had to say something, to warn Draco, maybe?

"Do you realise that this is about the people who killed my parents? This is serious. Dangerous even."

"Why, Harry? Worried about me?" Draco couldn't resist.

Harry snorted. The cynical sound didn't suit him. Draco didn't like to think that he had changed the boy by stealing some of his innocence; he didn't believe that it was possible for Harry too loose such an essential part of himself. It would be such a shame.

"Nothing ever comes for free," he said absentmindedly. "You gain something, you loose something."

"And what do you mean by that?" Harry snapped.

"I mean the money you just inherited."

"Ah, that…" it was obvious that Harry had not really considered that particular change in his life. Anyone else would have been in raptures. Still a lot of innocence left, Draco thought with a smirk.

"You are rich now, Harry. Get used to it and get used to the complications that will come with the money," the bitterness of his tone surprised Draco himself.

Harry had not thought about his inheritance in those terms yet. To him it meant his past, his heritage, not financial means to buy things with.

And Draco had no business talking about it as if Harry was greedy or something: "I didn't exactly have a choice to inherit or not to. Do you have a problem with me being rich? It's a good feeling when you don't have to count every penny and can afford something more than beans on a toast."

"Surely you were not that poor," Draco scoffed.

Harry didn't answer at first.

He just wanted to get out of the car. The sooner the better. Draco's closeness and this conversation – it was so uncomfortable. It felt all wrong. Harry was not the same person anymore. He had a feeling that Draco had changed too, but he couldn't tell, how exactly. It felt like they were supposed to know each other, but didn't and maybe never had.

The Draco whom Harry had believed in had been an illusion and Draco had never really wanted to know Harry. He hadn't been truly interested in Harry's thoughts, in his life, in his friends.

With his lack of experience Harry had never realised, but they had been fucking. Crude, plain, simple…

But, no, he was sure that there had been something more between them, a sort of untraceable connection, just there… or had jus been an illusion? Had he dreamed that up?

Harry bit his lip and looked around. There. He could see the _Mark&Spencer, _which was just a couple of blocks from their house. They were close.

"You know, what, Draco?" He said, not looking at the blond. "I actually was that poor. I guess you just never noticed or never cared. You knew nothing of me and still don't. Please be so kind and stay out of my life from now on!"

He finished the moment Draco stopped by the gate, Harry was already reaching to open the door, when he was stopped by a palm on his thigh. The touch was electrifying and he spun towards Draco, who immediately withdrew his hand, seeing Harry's wide eyes. The older man looked as if he was struggling to say something, but couldn't find the words.

Harry shook his head and staggered climbing out of the car, his eyes stinging.

He waved at the CCTV camera and the gate opened. Harry had a feeling that he was going to collapse as soon as the door would hide him from Draco's eyes. But most likely Draco was not watching. He was probably gone already. Besides, Harry couldn't afford to have a breakdown, because Sirius was waiting, impatiently, knowing him, and if his godson turned upset, he would want to know, that something had happened—

Nothing had happened after all. Absolutely nothing.

Harry took a ragged breath, blinking furiously to get rid of the tears that were stinging in his eyes.

***

The bell rang and Sirius opened the door and let in the tall redhead; the security guy had already warned him, that Harry's best friend was coming.

"Hya, Sirius."

"Hey, Ron. Come to see Harry?"

"Sure. Is it Ok?"

"Yeah, I think it's safe enough. But Harry's hiding upstairs in his room."

Ron raised his brows: "Hiding?"

"Yeah, he is listening to some kind of funeral music and painting. Wouldn't tell me what's wrong though," complained the older man, pouting sullenly.

Ron decided that sometimes Harry's godfather reminded him of a big child, reminding him of the twins, he had a feeling that they would get on like a house on fire. Unless they really set it on fire…

"So, you want me to… um… make him come clean about whatever has happened?"

"You are smarter than you look," Sirius smirked.

"Ok, no problem," Harry was his closest friend, wasn't he. Of course Ron hoped that no one would ever find out, how close exactly they had gotten. "Did everything go well yesterday?"

"Yes, more or less. There was some trouble, not that we didn't expect it. They had to split up and Tonks pretended to be Harry, let me tell you, that girl is worth something, so the bastard would follow them, but Misha managed to loose them. They sent Harry home with another car, but I don't think that he is sore about that. I personally don't think that we can trust Malfoy junior--"

"Who?"

"Malfoy. Old Lucius' son. Looks like the junior has some kind of grudge against Daddy and for some reason and now he is with Snape, who works on our side – not that Snape is not one nasty bastard – but I guess we can trust him enough, after all he was quite sweet on Lily, I bet he is in this for her sake. But the question is, does it mean we can trust the Malfoy brat? Ron?" Sirius then noticed, how red Ron's face had turned, it looked like there would be steam coming out of his ears any moment now. What did he say?

"That ferret face has no business with Harry!" He exploded verbally instead. "If he's done something to Harry, I'll pound his pretty face in, the next time I'll see him," the redhead growled and stomped off in the direction of Harry's room, leaving a bit put out Sirius standing in the middle of the entrance hall.

Sirius frowned, then shrugged and sauntered towards the kitchen to put together some sandwiches, in hope that Ron would sort out whatever was bothering Harry and his godson would agree to eat something. He didn't like that the boy could easily do without eating for some time and has made his personal mission to prevent that from happening.

***

Harry almost dropped the brush, when a loud bang on the door startled him.

"Come in," he sighed, Sirius was probably going to talk him into eating something again. Misha was out and Harry's godfather was apparently getting bored. Harry felt almost guilty, that he was not up to entertain him.

The door opened, but it was not Sirius, it was Ron.

"Hi," Harry greeted and made an effort to smile; he didn't want Ron to know that anything was not alright.

"Hi, Harry. Are you alright? What did he do to you? Did he say something? Did he try something? He did, didn't he? If he as much as touched a hair on you head, I swear I--"

"Ron! It's alright, Ok? He didn't do anything," Harry put down the brush with a sigh. "Nothing happened."

"If nothing happened, why are you upset then?" The redhead demanded.

"I don't know! I don't know, alright!" Harry threw his arms up.

Ron walked over to Harry, put his hands on his shoulders and steered the smaller boy towards the sofa, making him to sit down.

"Talk," Ron ordered.

"There is nothing much to say. It's just that he… he's so… I don't know! I don't want him to affect me like this, but he does. What can I do?"

"Forget him."

Harry glared at Ron angrily; did he really think that it was so easy? The redhead had no idea what he was talking about!

"It would be easier if he didn't keep turning up everywhere I go!"

"Just ignore the prick, then," it seemed, the redhead had answers to everything today.

"It's not that easy Ron! He was the first… he was my first everything. I don't want him to affect me like this, but what can I do? I feel the way I feel and that's it! I can't just turn it off."

Ron sighed in defeat: "Well, that sucks."

He had said it with such seriousness and finality, that Harry found it awfully amusing and snickered.

Ron replied with a smile, glad that he had managed to make his friend feel a bit better.

Then Harry's cell phone went off.

"Sorry," he apologised and picked it up.

"Oh, hi, Victor."

Ron couldn't help, but grin.

"See me? Um…"

Ron gave Harry thumbs up.

"I guess, yeah, it would be possible… alright, yes, see you later then," Harry put a way the phone, not looking particularly happy, like he should after agreeing to have a date.

"Not a word Ron," Harry warned.

"But--"

"No, Ron," he didn't want to hear Ron sing praise to Victor Krum.

To his relief, right then there was a knock on the door.

"I hope you are not doing something naughty, because I am coming in!" Sirius called out. "Sandwiches, boys?"

***

Harry went to meet Victor in a car with two body guards. He had asked Misha if it was alright, after all they had been followed by people who wanted to hurt them just the day before. Harry almost hoped that Misha would say 'no' and he would make him stay at home.

Nope.

"_Viktor?" Misha had raised an eyebrow, studying Harry carefully, as if trying to determine something. "You want to go?" He asked and completely ignored Sirius who was shouting that, of course, Harry wanted to go, from another room._

_Harry smiled and nodded. He needed a distraction, didn't he?_

"_Then, of course you can. Just take the boys with you and be careful, alright?"_

_Harry nodded. It was annoying to have your every step followed, but bodyguards were a must._

"_And, I know, that it is a lot to ask, but, please don't stay the night. Be late if you wish, but… I will feel better if you will be at home, Harry."_

_Harry blushed brightly making the promise almost eagerly. He was already feeling grateful that he would have an excuse not to stay the night. _

The boy did realise that it was wrong, but couldn't order his feelings to change. He had no idea, what to do with the football player. Harry was feeling cornered. He realised that Sirius hated his one night stands, and for that reason he was trying to get him date Viktor steadily. However, Harry was starting to feel trapped and pressured and as if he was letting everyone down.

The boy sighed. No, he should stop with the self pity. It was not that bad. It was only a date. He didn't have to promise anything to anyone or do anything he didn't want. Besides, if he went out with Victor everyone would be happy. It would probably be for the best and sometimes it was easier to just give in.

***

Blaise had decided to spend the day spending money. He liked beautiful things and fortunately his mother's wealth could buy him a lot of them. Shopping was like meditation for him, it helped him clear his head and think. Blaise had a lot on his mind. Or, depended, how one looked at it, because, it was actually just one person – Draco Malfoy.

Draco had gone too far this time; he had humiliated Blaise like never before. Of course, it would be easy to mend their friendship, but this time Blaise didn't want that. He couldn't forgive Draco anymore. Enough was enough.

It was time for revenge; Blaise just hadn't decided, how to go about it. What would hurt Draco the most? He wondered fingering a fine silk shirt.

Not his colour, Blaise looked up and around… and couldn't believe his luck.

Blaise didn't believe in good fortune, providence or even God and the holy trinity, despite his family's origins in the one of the most religious countries in the world, Italy. It all just seemed false and very ridiculous to him. It was a good business to some, another way for men, who got off on having power over others, to feed their fetishes.

However, he was ready to thank his lucky stars, when in the city inhabited by several millions, he ran into the one person who could become very useful.

He tapped the guy on his shoulder and put on his most charming smile, when he turned around: "Hello? Aren't you by the chance Harry Potter's friend?"

The guy was a bit startled at first, while his brain was apparently processing what had been said. Trust Potter to pick someone slow. The guy was fairly fit and good looking though. Otherwise Blaise hadn't remembered him from the club.

"You know Garry? Yes, yes I am his frend. Boy frend soon, I hope,"

A foreigner with a terrible accent. How charming.

Blaise beamed at the bloke anyway and the oaf smiled back in complete oblivious innocence. It was going to be like taking a candy from a baby.

"It's a pleasure to meet you—?"

"Victor."

"—Victor. You can call me Jim," Blaise offered his hand and the man shook it eagerly.

"Glad to meet you too Jim. You knov Garry?"

"Yes, of course I do, but unfortunately I haven't seen him for a while. How is he doing?"

"Oh, he is well…"

Blaise plastered a perfectly fake smile on his face, he had no desire to listen the man sing praise to the little whore for the next half an hour, but to feel the sweet taste of revenge in his mouth, he was ready to swallow even this

***

Severus gave the cushy chintz chair a distasteful look, and then he gave a disbelieving look the man who had offered him to sit on the offending piece of furniture. Albus Dumbledore was too occupied with pouring them both tea and humming to himself, to take notice of his guest's expression. Or maybe he was being ignored intentionally. Severus scowled and sat down.

He was ready to bet that the Headmaster had a selection of chairs in the storeroom somewhere and every time he had an audience with someone, he brought out a different one. Probably whichever the visitor would find the most offensive. Or maybe it was just Severus, whom the man liked to annoy. One could only guess.

"Bellatrix Lestrange is denying Black's claim and he will have to prove who he is in court. Naturally. I didn't expect her to sign everything over," he got to the point as soon as his backside hit the seat.

"Mhm, have some tea, my boy. And a ginger snap. You look peckish," the old man stroke his beard. "Yes, none of us did expect this to be easy. You must realise that our adversaries' tactics will be getting more and more aggressive. They will try to buy time and use it to remove Sirius and Harry."

"Yes and when Black will have to arrive to the court, he will be vulnerable. I don't expect the drag trick would work the second time."

The headmaster hummed: "I have heard that Mr. Berezinski is a force to reckon with."

"Oh, yes," scoffed Severus. "The Russian gangster. I am not surprised that you two get along."

"Surely you are exaggerating my boy," Snape was aware that the old man was not above ignoring some unpleasant realities, if it was convenient. "I trust Mr. Berezinski to keep them safer than we could. We will offer them all the help we can, but I am feeling better knowing that our friend will do everything to keep Sirius safe."

"Yes, well, I hope you are right. Not that we need Black as long as we have the little Potter…," but I'll humour you, his tone implied. "How are we going to proceed?"

"The simplest would be to wait until Sirius gets his name and assets back and then have an audit. I don't doubt that we will manage to find some proof of Tom's machinations. I am confident that Sirius will agree to withdraw his support, if it will make Tom's enterprise suffer."

Yes, Black was the kind to chew off his own leg, if he believed it to be the right thing to do. Not to mention blowing his inheritance.

"But it might not be enough to take down Riddle," Severus voiced what Dumbledore hadn't said, but had meant.

"Unfortunately, my boy. It might not be. So we have also begun searching Mr. Potter's estate. We have not found anything so far and you must understand that there is no guarantee that we will find anything. We can't know if Mr. Potter has left any evidence at all."

Damn! They have been working so long and still it seemed likely that Riddle would get away with his crimes. Damn, Potter, the arrogant bastard should have taken more care, before going off on self-righteous campaign against a criminal mastermind. Maybe then Lily would have been still with them –

"Have faith Severus,"

The barrister glared. It was so typical of Albus.

"We will stop him," the old man said it with unwavering conviction and Severus nodded, not really sure, if he believed in their success.

The headmaster cleared his throat: "There is something I am curious about Severus, I do hope, you will satisfy the curiosity of an old man."

"I am listening,"

"I have heard the strangest things from young Nymphadora concerning your godson, Draco. I must admit it not only piqued my curiosity, but also raised concern. I know, the young man is your godson and quite dear to you, but…"

Yes, it was unnecessary to finish. Severus understood perfectly well, he would have been worried if the issue had remained unaddressed: "I trust him Albus. Draco is sick of his father's manipulations. For that reason he has been living with me for months, so you can be sure that he didn't get closer to spy on me. He will not do anything to harm me or…"

"Or whom?"

Severus closed eyes, looking as if admitting it was painful: "Harry Potter."

"Oh?" Albus raised his brows and kept looking at the dark-hired man inquiringly.

"Not, 'oh'! Ouch!" The barrister exploded. Whatever! He could be honest with the old codger, what did it matter. It was damn embarrassing, but would get the old man off his back about Draco; it was clear that Albus was not going to leave the issue alone until he will know anyway.

"My godson and Potter have a history."

"A history? I am not sure, I understand you, my boy. Would you care to elaborate?"

"What's there to understand? They were together. As lovers. And as for elaborating, you'll have to ask someone else. Not that I think Potter has told anyone!"

"Ah," Severus hoped that he had managed to surprise the old codger for once. It was impossible to tell of course. "Mr. Malfoy was also one of my students, wasn't he? Are you implying that they have parted ways?"

Snape nodded, not really eager to discuss his godson's love life.

"Hm. Broken romantic entanglements often lead to resentment in at least one of the parties.."

Albus Dumbledore was obviously not going to leave the topic alone until Severus gave him what he wanted; the man gritted his teeth: "You have nothing to worry about. I wish I could claim differently, but I must admit that my godson is still disgustingly attached to the boy for some unfathomable reason. He is not going to harm your golden boy." Not intentionally at least, he added.

"Good, good," the Headmaster nodded, stroking his beard.

Severus recognised the look; he scowled: "I will not allow you to use my godson against his father either, Albus. I doubt it would work. Lucius is a very selfish man and I am certain he is very angry with Draco at the moment."

The headmaster didn't look convinced.

"No. You will leave Draco alone."

"My dear Severus, I would never intentionally endanger a child," the old man protested.

Despite the assurances, Severus left Hogwarts feeling uneasy. Draco was hardly a child and what were good intentions worth, if people got hurt or died anyway?

TBC

A/N: I decided not to sit on this chapter anymore. I hope it was not a bad decision.

Thank you for reading!


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